Files from the Lego City PD
by TinkerTech
Summary: Lego City's Police Department is one of the best in the world, which isn't to say that they don't have their own mishaps and problems. Delve into old case files and follow the dedicated force of LCPD on a myriad of escapades and adventures that seem to occur daily. Twice on Tuesdays.
1. As Sweet As Honey

Authors Note: I originally had this on a different fansite, but I wanted to continue this series and I no longer frequent the other site. If you've seen it there, don't worry! I didn't steal it from myself ;)

Dispatches from the Lego City PD

Case File #479: As Sweet as Honey

Time: 8:45 A.M.

Location: Lego City PD, Cherry Tree Hills

It was a bright spring morning in Lego City, quite similar to the bright springs mornings they'd been having for the past week. But this was a different sort of spring morning. Because this spring morning was a special spring morning. A super special, delightful spring morning.

Which was why Frank Honey was sprawled out on his desk in a fit of dismay. Around him, the officers of the Lego City Police Department were busy typing out reports, directing traffic, and plotting to grab the last doughnut out of the box in the break room before Chief Dunby could. Most of the officers were barely planning anything past their lunch break, let alone the end of the day. But Frank just sat with his head on his desk, desperately trying to think. There had to be _something_...

"Mornin' Frank." A voice, rich with a smooth southern accent, called. Frank sat upright as the object of his lack of thought process walked past his desk. Ellie Phillips ran the evidence locker, and was the main computer expert on the police force. She was also, in Frank's humble opinion, the prettiest woman he'd even seen, his mother the single exception. Although she was wearing her standard uniform of a white shirt, black pants, and police badge, there was something a little extra special about her today. Was it her short black hair, held back with a bright blue hair pin? Or her eyes, which seemed to glisten with a inner light? Or her lips, which moved almost hypnotically...?

"Frank? _Frank_?"

"Huh, What?" Frank said, shaken out of his reverie. He looked around. Ellie was gone as fast as she had been there. Chase McCain, the person calling his name, looked at him from across the row of desks with a concerned look. "Do you have any extra form 104-Bs? It's the one with the Robbers up a tree after a car crash."

"Hm? Uh..." Frank said, looking around his desk. For some odd reason, the higher-ups decided that since Frank was naturally bad at police work, he was automatically good at paperwork. Unfortunately, they were quite mistaken. Frank's desk was the messiest and most disorganized out of every other desk in the office. "I don't think so."

Chase sighed and turned back to the reports he'd been saddled with after a week of arrests. "Thanks, Frank."

Frank opened his mouth to reply, but Chase was already deeply engrossed in a report about a pursuit that ended with five robbers hiding up a tree after crashing their car into the city pound. That had been an interesting mess to sort out, for sure. Frank was just lucky that animals were naturally friendly with him. He'd kept them on the other side of the yard while Studsky and Clutch hauled the robbers out of the tree. He sighed. If only he were that good with people.

His problem? It was Ellie's Birthday. Ellie, the highlight of his life. And he had no idea what to get her. He didn't want to buy another technological trinket he was sure to break before he even got it wrapped, or another rubber bone for her dog. He wanted to get her something special. Something...

"FRANK!" Chief Dunby yelled, storming out of his office. Around him, Officers dove for cover. Even Chase had the sense to realize his coffee cup was suddenly empty and leave for a refill. Frank, however, was so lost in though that he didn't realize the Chief was hunting for him until he was standing right over his desk. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE THIS TIME?!"

"Um... What have I done this time, Chief?" Frank asked uncertainly.

"THAT'S WHAT I'M ASKING YOU!" Dunby yelled. "THE CITY POUND JUST CALLED. THEY WANT TO KNOW WHY ALL OF THEIR DOGS ARE CHASING A TOY MOUSE!"

Oh... Right. He'd used a little toy he'd found in the dumpster behind the pound to keep the dogs distracted. Guess he'd forgotten to turn it off when all the robbers had been taken care of.

"Um..." Frank said, his thoughts still split between Ellie and the Dogs. "I couldn't tell you, chief.

"WELL YOU BETTER GET BACK OVER THERE AND FIX IT, OR YOUR CAREER IS TOAST, HONEY!"

"Honey! That's it!" Frank exclaimed as the seldom-used bulb in his head lit up. "Thanks! You're the best, Chief!" He jumped up and hugged the chief with a huge bear hug. Then he ran out the door out towards the parking lot, leaving scattered papers in his wake.

At that point, Chase came back with a fresh coffee and the last doughnut. "What was that about?" He asked.

Dunby didn't reply, unless you count taking Chase's doughnut and eating it angrily a response.

It was mid-morning by the time Frank reached Bluebell National park. After several failed attempts to get his car out of the parking lot, he gave up and took the train. It wasn't like he was on official police business. Not right now, anyway. Regardless, it was a short walk from bluebell train station to The local police station, conveniently run by Ellie's uncle, Sheriff Huckleberry. And said Sheriff was the only one at the front desk when he walked in. Which was good. Derek still wasn't happy about the time he broke the coffee machine. The Sheriff was leaning back in his seat reading the daily paper, which had a lovely image of a BBQ fire gone out of control on the front page. Cheerful stuff to start the morning with.

Huckleberry looked up as Frank walked in. "Well, mornin' Frank. What brings you out 'round these parts? Make the chief mad again?" He asked in an accent that was quite similar to Ellie's.

"No. Er- Well, yes, but that's not why I'm here." Frank admitted. "I'm looking for something special to give Ellie for her birthday."

"Hm... Well, unless you're going to pick her a bunch of wildflowers, there isn't that much I can think of out here." the Sheriff said, scratching his head.

"What about Honey? I know she loves the stuff on her morning toast. Isn't there some sort of rare kind of Honey that's made out here?" Frank asked.

The Sheriff thought for a moment. "You know, there just might be. I don't know where it would be, but those old books over there might be able to tell you. Just don't tip the whole bookshelf on your head when you start looking." At that point, the phone rang. "Bluebell Police outpost, Huckleberry speaking." The Sheriff said, picking up the phone.

"Again, Hayes? Alright, I'm on my way down." He said, ending the conversation quickly by hanging the phone back up. "That was Farmer Hayes. His pigs have escaped again. I keep telling him to put a stronger lock on that pen, but they still get out." He sighed, hauling himself to his feet and grabbing his hat off of the hat rack. "I'm heading down to Fort Meadows to get it sorted out. Just leave any books on the desk when you're done, and I'll get them put back later."

"Thanks Sheriff Huckleberry!" Frank called after him as the door closed. The office empty, Frank walked over to the bookshelf and began to look over the titles. Most of them had to do with woodland management, mine management, or dam management (The local flavors of activity.) Finally, He found one titled 101 types of flora and fauna that looked like it would be relatively useful. He even got it out of the bookshelf without bringing five more down with it. He sat down at the desk and began to flip through it with interest. After a moment, though, he became aware of a low growl emanating from Sheriff Huckleberry's desk.

Derek the Squirrel glared over at him. Of All the animals Frank had met, this was the only one that outright hated him. While the feeling wasn't mutual, Frank still avoided him as much as possible. The squirrel was addicted to coffee, and still held a grudge over the coffee machine Frank had broken on his last visit.

"H-Hi, Derek..." Frank said with a nervous wave. The Squirrel only crouched lower over his coffee cup and growled a little louder. Frank gulped and turned back to the book. After a few moments, he came to the section on Bees. Having the last name of Honey, Frank knew a little more about bees than most people, if only for the random facts about them spouted at his face because of said last name.

"There!" He said, pointing at a page. "Bluebell Wildflower Honey is said to be the sweetest product produced in Bluebell national park. Let's see... Typically found in the springtime, the Bluebell Wildflower honey is made when Bees take the nectar from the Bluebell flowers back to their hive and make honey." Frank looked at the index, then flipped over to the section on Bluebell flowers. "Bluebell Flowers grow in patches at the top of hills, especially in the Bluebell National Park. That's perfect!" He said, standing up excitedly. "I'll go find some Bluebell Flowers, follow the Bees back to their hive, and get the Honey! Ellie will love it!"

Racing to the kitchenette, Frank found a empty jar with a lid to hold the honey in, and a spoon to get the honey out of the Hive. He no sooner turned around, however, when he found a large furry ball of anger jumping into his face. Derek apparently had decided that Frank had gotten a little too close to the coffee machine. The next few minutes were filled with yelling, pain, and crashing as Frank valiantly tried to pry the Squirrel off his face without breaking anything. Fortunately for Derek, the coffee machine remained unharmed. Unfortunately for Frank, he ended up under a large pile of books as the contents of the bookshelf landed on his head. He climbed out of the pile of books with the jar safely tucked against his jacket, albeit with a few more scratches and bruises than he'd had before. He hopped around a bit, torn between cleaning up his mess and going after the honey. One look from Derek made up his mind for him.

"I'll come back and clean it up later!" He promised as he rushed out the front door, the angry chitters of the Squirrel following his retreating back.

Two hours later, Frank was wandering in the woods, completely lost. Armed only with the standard-issue grapple gun and an empty jar, Frank was helpless against the elements. Not that any of the elements would have bothered with him in the first place. The sun was high in the sky, and he started to worry. What if he didn't find the honey in time for the Birthday party planned this afternoon?

Frank sighed, a long sad sigh that proclaimed his hopeless case to the world. Then he noticed a flower. It was small, to be sure, but there were a lot of them, shaped like little blue bells...

"I found them!" he exclaimed, racing over to the flowers. He knelt down and peered intently at the little blue petals that flared out at the end, like little bells of celebration. He watched, he waited. And sure enough, a little bee crawled out of one of the bells. He watched as it flew from flower to flower, doing what bees have come to do naturally. Finally, covered in pollen, the be began its journey back to the hive.

"Wait for me!" He cried, hurrying after the bee. After a moment of thought, he stopped and picked some of the flowers, so the bee wouldn't have to fly all the way back for more. Then he continued following the bee on its looping and swooping path back to the hive.

Frank raced around a tree, then raced back behind it at the sight of the hive. It was huge, having taken over an entire dead stump. Hundreds of bees swarmed around it, depositing their goods and making the sweet honey that he craved. Frank gulped. How on earth was he supposed to get honey from all those bees? He may have been a ditz, but he wasn't stupid. That swarm would probably eat him alive. There was a bit of movement in the trees across the way. Frank spotted a huge brown bear, watching the hive with equal interest, but just as stuck was Frank was.

Frank jumped a foot in the air as a loud motor revved from somewhere behind him. fumbling for his grapple gun, Frank dropped the jar and the flowers as he pulled himself up into the tree, out of sight. He watched as a large truck, unmistakably belonging to the Pappalardo's Ice Cream business, pull up to the hive. Two goons jumped out, unmistakably goons by their rough voices and their manner of speech. Which was rather sloppy, to say the least.

"There's the hive, Jim." One of them said, pointing to the mass of honeycomb in the old tree stump.

"I can see it just fine, Larry." Jims said, surveying the prize. "Now, why don't youse get that little surprise of ours out and pout our little friends here to sleep?"

"You gots it, boss." Larry said, running to the back of the truck and pulling out a large length of hose. There was the sound of pumping from somewhere in the back of the truck. Frank watched with interest. So Pappalardo was after the honey too? Probably as a new flavor of some sort.

"All ready!" Larry shouted. Jims grabbed the front of the hose and pointed it at the hive.

"Start it up!" He shouted. There was a click and a whirr from the back of the truck, and smoke began to pour from the hose and towards the hive. Gradually, the buzz of the bees began to die down, lulled by the gradual smoke until they were nothing more than a light buzz at the edge of your hearing.

"Now theys out, let's grab the hive and go!" Larry shouted from the back of the truck. The ice cream cone on top pulled back to reveal a large crane, which began to reach toward the hive. Frank gasped. Taking a little honey was one thing, but the whole hive! That was stealing! That was against the law! He was so caught up in this thought that he didn't realize he was slipping from the branch until he was already halfway down to the ground. He landed with a rather inelegant THUD, shaking the tree and alerting the two goons to his presence.

"Um...Hi?" Frank asked nervously as the two goons glared at him. "I just came out here looking for a little honey... See?" He said, quickly scooping the little glass jar off of the ground. "Don't worry about me, I'll just get a little scoop and be on my way..."

The two goons looked at him, then at each other, then at him again. "He's a cop, Jims." Larry said with a mean growl. "We can't have them knowing we was out here. Not yet."

"No, we can't." Jims agreed, looking at Frank with what was a very predatory grin. "Guess we better take cares of this one, then..."

Frank gulped as the two goons closed in on him. This wasn't how he was planning on having the morning go. And no one knew he was out here-they wouldn't come looking for him for a full day, probably. He scooted around the tree, absentmindedly picking up the flowers as he went. As soon as he was on the other side, He ran, racing around the clearing in an attempt to lose the goons without losing the honey. Unfortunately, he was outnumbered. Soon the goons were closing in from both sides, pushing him back against the hive. Two steps, one step...

Frank backed up into something hairy. He looked behind him in surprise. The bear, which had gone completely unnoticed by the goons, had taken advantage of the sleeping bees to grab some honey of its own. And it was rather displeased at being interrupted. Due to its big bulk, it saw the two goons before it saw Frank. Which was probably Frank's luckiest streak all day. The bear roared and took off after the goons, chasing them into the trees and out of sight. Frank sighed and held the jar to his chest in relief. "They're gone..." He panted. Then he looked down at the jar. "Oh, right!"

It didn't take him long to fill up the little jar with honey-there was plenty of it to go around. He had screwed the lid on and was starting to walk away with his prize when he heard an angry buzzing behind him. He looked and realized the smoke the goons had used on the bees was wearing off.

Rather quickly, in fact.

"Oh no..." Frank sighed. Then he started running.

The briefing room at the police station, it was agreed among the officers, was the best place to hold a party. It was spacious, easy to decorate, and came with its own popcorn machine. Ellie's birthday party was in full swing, since most of the day's work was over. Tables full of food (and doughnuts) lined the walls, and someone had set up a small DJ stand next to the podium, which Officer Miles was manning to great effect. Pretty much everyone who worked for LCPD (and a lot of people who didn't) had shown up to celebrate their favorite communications girl's special day. Well, almost everyone...

"Has anyone seen Frank?" Ellie asked halfway though the party. The ginger-haired klutz had yet to appear. Which was surprising, considering his crush on Ellie. Chase looked out the window at the parking lot. "His car's still there." He noted.

"Bah! Who cares where Honey is?" Dunby asked, eating another doughnut. "He never showed up at the Pound to take care of the mess he made like he was supposed to. No clue where the idiot is..." At that moment, the elevator dinged and a rather ragged young man stepped out.

Frank, to put it frankly, was a mess. His hair was filled with twigs and leaves, his coat was torn in several places, and there was dried mud all over his pants and shoes. His face has hard to read-it was covered in scratches and bee stings. But there was a definite smile on his face as he slowly made his way across the room to Ellie, holding his hard-earned gift: A little jar of Honey, wrapped with a red ribbon and a bunch of Bluebell flowers stuck in the bow.

"Happy Birthday, Ellie." Frank said happily as Ellie took the jar of honey from him. He then promptly collapsed on the floor and passed out.

After making sure that Frank wasn't dead (He wasn't) Chase got Officer Burkhoff to take him to the hospital for treatment for his various injuries. He then turned to Ellie, who had opened the jar of honey and was delicately tasting it. "What is it?" He asked.

Ellie smiled. "Bluebell Wildflower Honey." She said, delighted.

"...Can't you buy that at any supermarket?" Chase asked, confused.

"Oh, of course." Ellie said. "But this little jar, freshly found by a close friend-well, it's just that little bit sweeter." She said as she ate another finger full of Honey.


	2. When Pigs Fly

FILES FROM THE LEGO CITY PD

 _Case File #348: When Pigs Fly_

 _Time: 12:30 P.M._

 _Location: Barnaby's Bistro, Festival Square_

Lunch at the Lego City PD was usually a mild affair. Take a break, eat, go back to work. Although Chase McCain was a master at many things, cooking was not one of them. He wouldn't burn down the kitchen the moment he stepped in (unlike Frank) but ask him to make anything more complicated than a BLT sandwich and you'd lose him. So most days he ate at The Silver Star, the cafe across the street. Today was a little different; he'd driven partway across town to Festival Square to meet Natalia for lunch.

It was a nice cafe, one that had been recommended to them by Ellie and Officer Park. The food was good, and the view was better, in Chase's opinion. Natalia worked at the hospital as a paramedic, and was often on calls around the city dealing with kids with broken legs and old ladies who'd been scared half to death by their own reflection. Her long blond hair was tied back in its usual ponytail, her EMS badge pinned to her dark blue shirt. They chatted about work for a while, trading stories while they waited for their food. It was too good to last.

Natalia was halfway through her salad and he through his burger when both of their phones rang. Chase gave her a sheepish look as he reached for his own phone, as Natalia answered hers. "Hello?" They asked simultaneously. They looked at each other, then turned away so they could hear their caller better.

" _Chase?"_ Ellie asked. _"I know you're on your lunch break, but we need you back here. Something's come up, and you're one of the most qualified people for the job."_

Chase frowned. Ellie was always careful with her words, especially when she worked around Frank. "Qualified" could mean anything from taking out three gangs at once to getting a kitten out of a tree. _"It's really important."_ Ellie continued. _"Dunby's trying to sort things out, but you're probably one of the people outside of the Bluebell Outpost who knows about this kind of stuff."_

He sighed. So much for his lunch date. "All right, I'm on my way." He said, hanging up. He turned to Natalia, who was still on her call.

"...Five people stuck in a barb-wire fence?" She asked, taking notes on a napkin with a pen. "Why can't Carlos get them? ...An old lady fell down the steps in Pagoda... Fine, where are they?... The airport? Ah, alright, Have Stewie pick me up at Barnaby's Bistro on the way." She said, hanging up. She turned to Chase. "Sorry, but it looks like work waits for no woman."

"Or man." He said, holding up his own phone. "They want me back at the station, but wouldn't tell me why." He looked down at his half-finished meal. "Catch you for dinner, maybe?"

"If I can get off, sure." Natalia said, standing. "Don't worry about the bill, I'll have the waitress put it on a tab. See you later, Chase!" She called, racing out the door and into the back of a waiting ambulance before he could object, stopping only to arrange payment with the waitress for later. _That girl works too hard_. He thought. He asked the waitress for a to-go box for the remainder of his hamburger and stood up. Then he spied the cake in the display by the counter and got an idea.

"THIS is what you called me about?" Chase asked. Twenty minutes later, he was standing in the yard of Jethro Hayes' Farm, looking at a pigpen. One without any pigs. "Are you kidding me? Sheriff Huckleberry knows way more about this than I do!"

"I know about escaping pigs." Sheriff Huckleberry replied, tilting his hat to keep the sun out of his eyes. "I don't know about stolen ones." He pointed down at the ground. "See these tire tracks? And that broken fence? When the pigs escape, they usually have a clean break, not that splintery mess."

Chase knelt down and took a closer look. He wasn't an expert in cars by any means, but he could tell the tires wouldn't match any of the vehicles on the farm. They were too big, for starters. He pulled out his communicator and took a picture. "Ellie, can you send this to Officer Spencer? I want to know if he can figure out what kind of car these belong to." He said, sending her the photo.

"You got it, Chase." She said, then vanished from the screen. That taken care of, Chase looked at the fence. Farmer Hayes' pigs escaped on a regular basis. It was just about the only thing Sheriff Huckleberry ever had to deal with, and they escaped on such a regular basis that he could plan his schedule around them. And usually when they escaped, they just climbed out of the pen or pushed the gate open. The entire fence had been shattered, the lock on the gate hanging from a single screw. This time, they hadn't escaped on their own.

"Your pigs were stolen?" Chase asked. "Who would want to steal a bunch of pigs?" He looked up at Farmer Hayes for an answer.

"They're mountain pigs." Farmer Hayes replied in an incredibly obvious voice. "Incredibly rare. They'd fetch an extremely high price on the market. I should know." He was interrupted by Chase's communicator beeping.

"Spencer! You got anything for me?"

"Sure do." Spencer said from the other end of the video call. The vehicle expert was seated at his desk back at the precinct. "Those tire tracks you found aren't going to belong to anything on the farm, I can tell you that."

"Really?" Chase asked. "They look like half the treads I can see from here."

"You'd think so, but no." Spencer said. "That tread is too big for a normal truck, too small for a tractor, and too deep for a car or small pickup. My guess just from the photo is that it's from a monster truck of some sort. I could narrow it down a little if I was out there myself. That help?"

"It sure does Quentin, thanks." Chase said, ending the call. There weren't any monster trucks on the farm; they weren't very practical for anything except getting around in the mud. That narrowed the field quite a lot; the only Monster truck driver he knew of that wasn't a crook was Officer Jenkins. (and even her truck didn't have tires that big.) That left a gang. The problem now would be figuring out which one. He looked around for any more clues. There were plenty of footprints, but they were all mashed together that it was impossible to tell one set from another. "Where could a person with a monster truck store a bunch of pigs?" He asked the sheriff as they walked back to their vehicles.

"Well, who would have a monster truck?" Huckleberry asked.

"A surprising number of crooks." Chase commented. "After Chan Chuang's gang got caught, the city seized a fair number of vehicles. Problem is, there weren't near as many as there should have been. We think a gang or two stole the rest before we could get to them."

"That doesn't narrow the field a whole lot, does it?" Huckleberry asked as he mounted his horse (He was close enough to the Bluebell outpost that driving a car wasn't worth it.)

"No, it doesn't." Chase said, climbing into his own car. "I'm headed back to the Precinct to get a list of who we think has a monster truck, and compare it to a list of who would be likely to steal pigs. Hopefully we can find an overlap before those pigs vanish for good."

The Front lobby was in Chaos by the time Chase got back. Five Criminals, all stuck in barbed wire, were seated on a bench along one wall. Rodney Baxter and Frank Honey were trying to pull them out with a pair of wire cutters and a lot of gritted teeth. Chase spotted Natalia talking to the secretary at the front desk. He waved to her but didn't interrupt, instead walking behind the desk to talk to Officer Spencer.

"Hey, would you happen to have a list of all the monster trucks currently owned in the city?" He asked. Spencer nodded and dug in a file folder.

"Here. We're doing our best to track down all the ones missing from the Chuang inventory, but it hasn't been easy." Spencer said, handing over a list. "We've taken a couple liberties with estimates on who has what, depending on what cops have seen on the street."

"Thanks." Chase said, looking at the list. A Monster truck certainly suggested a Gang. He couldn't imagine a butcher using one when a regular truck would work. "Is Officer Jenkins in? I think this is a gang-related crime."

"Nah, she just went on her lunch break. Officer Park might be able to help you find what you need though." Spencer said, pointing at the next desk over. Then he realized it was empty. "Umm... She was there a minute ago."

"I'll find her." Chase said, waving him off. "See you later."

"See ya, Chase." Spencer said, returning to his work. Chase looked around the lobby, but didn't see Officer Park's trademark Auburn hair. She was probably upstairs, then. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and spotted her trying to see into Chief Dunby's office. He dodged around the break room table and wandered across the floor to her.

"Officer Park, could you help me out with something?" He asked. Sarah park turned from the window to look at him.

"I'd love to, but I have to give this report to the Chief and his office is locked." She said, pointing to the door. "All I can hear is this low rumbling sound. I think he fell asleep again."

"Don't worry, I'm on it." Chase said, looking around. The Chief has a rather irritating habit of locking himself in his office to get a few minutes of sleep. Which wasn't bad, except those few minutes usually turned into a few hours. Chase wandered over to the game consoles (which they had, for some reason) and reached behind one. Since the Chief (Or most of the department, for that matter) never used the consoles, it had never been discovered that Chase made a spare key for the Chief's office a long time ago. He walked back to the door and put the key in the lock, listening for that subtle, satisfying click. Sure, it didn't look cool, but it was better than taking a crowbar to the door.

"Thanks, Chase." Officer Park said. "Now what are you up to?"

"Trying to track down some stolen pigs." Chase said as they walked into the Chief's office. "Yeah, stolen this time. They could be anywhere- King's Court, Fresco-"

"The Chief's office?" Sarah asked. They looked over at the desk in surprise to find a sleeping pig, instead of a sleeping Dunby. The pig was even wearing the Chief's hat. The window was open and the doughnut box on the desk was empty.

"MCCAIN!" Chief Dunby shouted, storming into his office. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY OFFICE?"

"Looking for you, sir." Chase said, dumbfounded. "Well, I was looking for Officer Park, and she was looking for you." He said, pointing to the equally dumbfounded Officer.

Chief Dunby looked at them suspiciously, then spotted the pig at his desk. "WHY IS THERE A PIG IN MY OFFICE?" He yelled. "HOW CAN I GET ANY WORK DONE WITH A BUNCH OF FARMYARD ANIMALS LOOSE IN MY OFFICE! GET OUT!" And shoved Chase and Officer Park out the door. "AND TAKE THIS THING WITH YOU!" He continued, throwing the pig out with them. "AND GIVE ME THAT!" He shouted, grabbing his hat off the pig and the report from Officer Park. He slammed the door behind him, and the usual sound of his snoring could be heard not three minutes later.

Chase and Park looked at each other, then at the pig, who was sniffing around for another treat. Then they heard loud, clumsy footsteps as Frank Honey ran up the stairs.

"What's going on up here, guys?" Frank asked. Then he spotted the pig. "Oh hey, you found one!"

"Yes, we found-wait, how did you even know they were missing? We got the report half an hour ago!" Chase asked in surprise.

"Those guys downstairs in the barbed wire claimed they were chasing down the pigs they stole when they got stuck in some fence at the airport." Frank said, oblivious to the fact that he just solved a case that would have taken days normally. "They're also worried that their monster truck is going to get stolen because they left it in a bad spot."

"...That's rather convenient." Chase said. "Thanks Officer Park, but I don't think I'm going to need your help any more." He turned back to Frank. "Now where are these guys?"

"Downstairs!" Frank said. Chase peered over the railing to see the five criminals from before freed from the barbed wire, but now stuck in five pairs of handcuffs. Natalia was busy patching them up for a night in the jail cells. Chase ran down the stairs and over to the group.

"So I hear you boys stole some pigs." Chase started off, as Natalia pushed another band-aid on a crook's shoulder.

"It was his idea!" One of them squealed, gesturing to the one next to him with his arm. "He said we'd be in hog heaven if we sold off those pigs. We didn't think they'd escape on us!"

"Quiet, Porkchop! Don't forget about our rights!" The supposed leader said, nudging him back.

"They escaped on you?" Chase asked, interested and dreading the answer.

"Yeah! We got all the way to the airport before we realized they were all gone." Porkchop continued. "We were tryin' to catch one of them when we got stuck in the fence."

Chase sighed. They were all over the city by now probably. The last time that had happened, he'd spent a week catching them all. But Not this time. "Frank, can you round up the pig upstairs into a truck? Get it back to farmer Hayes' farm, then tell him to round up all his farmhands and meet me back here. We're going on a hog hunt."

The plan was simple. Split up into groups, One Cop and one farmer in each group, and canvas the city for the remaining 21 pigs. The Cops would look for the pigs using the scanners in their communicators, and the farmers would able to wangle into the pig cannons to get them back to the farm. The only trick was...

"How'd he get all the way up there?" Frank Honey asked. The Pig in question was standing on top of a billboard in Uptown.

"They're mountain Pigs." Farmer Hayes Replied. "They do that. Come on, there's a power line we can use to get close to it."

"They sure do like to climb, don't they?" Officer Park asked as she scanned the Downtown bank. The pig they had found was standing all the way on the very top. "Any ideas on how to get up..." She asked, only to turn around and realize that her partner was gone.

"WAHOO!" A voice cried. Park looked up to see Jethro's wife, Patty Hayes, flying from a nearby apartment building. With a chicken. Despite all the laws of physics, she made it to the top of the bank with nary a problem. After that, she rode the pig down like she had been doing it all her life. "That's how you catch a pig!" She called happily as she rode it all the way to the pig cannon.

Park Sighed. "And this is why I live in the city."

"Okay, we caught the pig. Now what?" Officer Spencer asked as he and Old Bucky got the pig to the pig cannon in Pagoda.

Bucky Laughed. "Now we launch her." He said, shoving the pig into the cannon rear-first. "You might want to cover your ears." He continued, pulling out a chicken.

"Why would I want to..." Spencer asked as the farmhand used the chicken to wind up the pig cannon. There was a sudden loud BANG as the cannon went off, sending the pig back to the farm and the two young men to their rears.

"YEE-HAW!" Bucky cheered from his position on the ground. "That's my favorite part!"

"Ugh..." Spencer moaned.

It took all afternoon, but eventually the mis-matched teams were able to track down and return every single pig. Well, almost all of them. Chase was still trying to track down the last one, which was supposedly somewhere near the airport. He scanned another building and sighed. No pig. This was starting to get annoying.

" _Any luck Chase?"_ Ellie asked, popping up on his communicator.

"None." Chase replied, looking around the airport. "If this pig is around here, he's hiding really well."

" _Hm... Hey, why don't you take a helicopter and fly around a bit?"_ Ellie suggested. _"Maybe you'll spot him from the air."_

"Good idea. Thanks Ellie." Chase said, stowing his communicator away. He immediately headed for the helipad on the airport's roof. It took a little climbing, but he made it up there eventually. He requested a small chopper from the console next to the helipad-he didn't plan on flying for that long. As he waiting for the chopper to appear, he heard someone call his name from below.

"HEY! CHASE!" Frank yelled from the parking lot. "You find that pig yet?"

"Not yet, Frank." Chase called back, turning away from the helipad. "I'm gonna grab a helicopter and fly around, see if I can find him that way."

"Um, don't look Chase, but you're helicopter's leaving without you." Frank shouted, pointing. Chase turned around to see the helicopter leave the pad, with a now-familiar looking hog at the controls.

"HEY!" Chase shouted. Thinking fast, he pulled his grapple gun from his belt and aimed for the skid, hoping to hold the copter steady until someone could get it down. He caught the skids all right, but he wasn't heavy enough to hold the copter down, and ended up getting dragged into the air. "WAAGH!"

"Chase! Don't let go!" Frank said, running back to his car. "Just hang on!"

"It's a little late to let go!" Chase yelled back. He was dangling from the bottom of the helicopter, which was now several dozen feet in the air. He looked up at the cockpit. if he could get up there, he'd be able to get the copter down and catch the pig. Or just fly it all the way back to Fort Meadows. He wasn't going to be picky. He started climbing up the cable of the grapple gun when the copter banked steeply, nearly causing him to lose his grip.

"AAAAAAHHH!" Chase yelled, hanging on for dear life. Contrary to what most people would believe, pigs can fly helicopters. Just not very well. Chase spent the scariest half-hour of his life dangling from a helicopter as it flew harp-hazardly around Lego City, with no apparent direction in mind. Finally, a small miracle (or disaster, depending on your point of view) happened as they flew over Fort Meadows.

The Copter ran out of fuel.

Chase looked up as the engine sputtered. "Oh No." He said. Then the helicopter began to drop, ending up in a steep dive aimed straight at Hayes' Farm. No one was quite sure what happened next, but there was a spectacularly loud CRASH from behind the barn. Farmer Hayes, Sheriff Huckleberry and Chief Dunby ran around the corner to find the Helicopter in a haystack, the pig safely back in its pen, and Chase face-first in a rather large mud puddle.

"Well, there you go, Farmer Hayes. All your pigs are back safe and sound. And Chase," He said, looking at the muddy cop pulling himself out of the puddle. "When you're done playing in the mud, there's paperwork waiting for you back at the station." And Dunby climbed into his car and drove away, just like that.

Sheriff Huckleberry laughed and tossed a towel over to Chase, who was climbing over the fence. "go ahead and get some of that mud off your face. I already called Ellie, she said the paperwork wasn't anything that couldn't wait until tomorrow. Go home and take a shower, Chase."

"Thanks, Sheriff Huckleberry." Chase moaned, wiping the mud off his face with the towel.

Chase was tired, sore, and covered in mud, and that was putting it lightly. He was also completely taken by surprise when he saw Natalia sitting by his apartment door when he finally got home. "Natalia? What are you doing here?" He asked, trying to dig his key out of his pocket."

"Waiting for you, silly. We were going out for dinner, remember?" Natalia laughed, standing up. "Don't you look a mess? Have fun wrestling with the pigs?"

"Don't ask." Chase said, leaning into the door as it opened. "And I don't think I'm up to going out tonight."

"I thought so. That's why I ordered it to go." Natalia replied, holding up a bag of Chinese take-out. "You go take a shower and get changed. I'll get dinner re-heated."

Twenty minutes later, Chase emerged from the bathroom wearing a red sweatshirt and blue pants, leaving his dirty uniform in the laundry bin for later. The flak jacket was going to need a hit with the hose before he started work tomorrow. He hoped there would be a spare at the precinct he could use until his dried off.

Natalia had set the boxes out on the coffee table, allowing them to eat on his relatively comfortable couch rather than the relatively-uncomfortable table. Chase flopped onto the couch, letting his exhausted limbs sink into the cushions as he relaxed for the first time since lunch.

"One order of Sweet-and-sour Chicken." Natalia said, handing over a box with a pair of chopsticks stuck in it. Chase accepted it gladly, taking several bites out of the box in a matter of seconds. "Thanks for the cake, by the way. It made my afternoon." Natalia said, between bites of Chow Mein.

Chase smiled. He'd arranged with the cafe to have a piece of cake sent to her at work during the afternoon, to make up for their interrupted lunch. "Glad you liked it." he muttered quietly.

"Hey, if you're not busy next week, Patti said there was a new movie opening at the theatre. I think it's some sort of action movie. Would you be interested in-" Natalia said, until she looked over and realized that Chase had fallen asleep with the chopsticks halfway to his mouth. She smiled. He must have been exhausted. Her thought process was interrupted when Chase's communicator beeped on the coffee table. She scooped it up answered it before it could wake him. "Hey Ellie, what's up?" She asked as she answered the call."

" _Oh hi Natalia. Is Chase around?"_ Ellie asked.

"Kind of. He's out like a light right now. Flying around under a helicopter and catching pigs really took it out of him today." Natalia said, holding the communicator so that the camera could see Chase passed out on the couch.

" _Well, that's what I was calling him about. Farmer Hayes' pigs escaped again."_ Ellie said. _"Think we should wake him?"_

Natalia looked over at her sleeping boyfriend. "I think we should let the night shift deal with it." She said with a smug grin. "Aren't they always complaining they never get any fun anyway?"

Ellie laughed. _"They sure are. Well, I'll let them know. And if you happen to spot any of those pigs, give me a call."_

"Can do. Good night, Ellie." Natalia said, and ended the call. Then she sat back down on the couch, gently took the to-go box from Chase and set it on the coffee table, then snuggled up against him. Sure, he worked to hard. But he cared about her. And sometimes that was all that mattered.

She was so content that she didn't even hear the distant oink of a pig on the rooftop.


	3. A Red Doughnut Day

Case File #278 A Red-Doughnut Day

 _Day: May 23_

 _Location: Lego City PD, Lobby_

 _Time: 7:34 A.M._

Officer Quentin Spencer sat at his desk and yawned. It was 7:30 in the morning, and he'd been called in to investigate a vehicle robbery. 17 of them, in fact. From all over the city, all apparently unrelated. He hadn't even had his morning coffee yet. Across from him, Officer Sarah Park looked equally tired as she tapped away on her computer. There had been an alarming string of bank robberies the night before, and Sar-Officer Park was the local expert in Bank Robberies and money trails. She was called in when The leads ran cold. And apparently all 24 robberies had gone cold by the start of the morning shift. Spencer hadn't even been aware there were that many banks in the city.

Both of their desks sat between the Secretary's desk in the lobby and the Main Computer, allowing them easy access to information while allowing everyone else to have easy access to them. It was a blessing and a curse, really. More of a curse today, since 17 car thefts and 24 bank robberies tended to be the department's focus so early in the morning. People were coming and going faster than he could process the paperwork at times, and he wasn't even sure he was giving people the right pieces of paper.

"Mornin' Spencer." A voice said. Spencer looked up to see officer Jenkins standing at his desk. He immediately sat up a little straighter. Officer Jenkins was someone you did not want to cross. "At ease, kid. Here, this might perk you up." She said, setting a cup of coffee on his desk. "And that's only so I can have you awake enough to process the paperwork properly."

"Thanks." Spencer said, taking a sip. WOW, that was strong. "Doughnuts here yet?"

"Not for another 25 minutes." Jenkins said, walking away and waving her hand. "Get back to work!"

The next 25 five minutes passed slowly for everyone in the room. Cops are notorious for loving doughnuts, and with good reason. Although it wasn't a contractual requirement (Contrary to what some may think) Every Cop wouldn't say no to a good pastry, unless it was a bribe. Then they'd just beat up the crook, arrest them, and take the doughnut as "evidence." The 8:00 A.M shipment from Wheatley's Bakery in Downtown was, officially, the start of their morning.

The clock on the main computer marked 7:55. Spencer could practically feel himself drooling. Right now, the delivery truck would be backing up to the vehicle bays, where Frank would sign for the shipment, haul it through the front doors and into the waiting mouths of a 35+ person staff. And Chief Dunby, once everyone else made sure they got at least one.

7:57. Work in the lobby slowed to a crawl as the furtive looks to the clock became less furtive and more desperate.

7:58. People were starting to abandon their desks and gather around the front door, desperate for a morning pastry to really kick themselves into high gear.

7:59. The few people had become a mob, anxious. Pretty much no one except for maybe Officer Park was getting anything done now. And even she was fairly distracted.

8:00.

Mayor Gleeson walked through the front doors.

On a few faces, disappointment flashed briefly. Then it vanished as everyone jumped to an entirely different sort of attention. Yes, it was the mayor of Lego City, former police chief, and all around great person. But she also wasn't the morning doughnut shipment. They quickly cleared the area around the front door and went back to pretending like they were doing important work.

The Mayor laughed. Yes, she was the mayor, but she was also a former cop. She knew the score. "At ease, officers." She said, walking to the front desk. "Could you please wake Chief Dunby? Remind him that I've got an 8:00 A.M. meeting with him right now."

"Right away, Ma'am." Bea, the secretary said. Eschewing the phone altogether, she walked upstairs and banged on the office door. "CHIEF! SOMEONE TO SEE YOU!" She shouted. Then she looked down at the Mayor. "He'll be ready in a minute, Mrs. Mayor."

"Thank you, Bea." She said as she walked upstairs. Back on the main floor, the officers were watching the front door like a wolf watches a chicken coop, ignoring their work once again. Finally, the hearts of everyone rose as Frank Honey walked through the front doors with the doughnut delivery.

Except his hands were empty. And his face had that crestfallen look one has when he has to break the bad news to a large group of people. "Um... So... The doughnut truck didn't arrive... And I didn't see it anywhere outside..."

There was silence. You could have heard a stud drop.

"...And I called the bakery, and they said it should have been here by now..."

More silence.

"...So... There's no doughnuts today."

Chaos ensued. Papers that had been carefully arranged in files went flying into the air as hardened officers screamed like little girls and ran around in a panic. Desks flipped over and coffee spilled as order broke down. It was also what finally brought Dunby out of his office.

"WHAT'S GOING ON DOWN THERE?!" He shouted. Mayor Gleeson stepped out behind him to see the panic that had overtaken the office.

"The doughnut shipment didn't come, Chief!" An officer shouted from below.

Dunby paled. "...D-d-didn't come?" He asked weakly. He strengthened his grip on the railing and pointed straight down, which happened to be where Spencer and Park's desks were. "YOU TWO! GET DOWN TO THE BAKERY AND FIND THOSE DOUGHNUTS! I need to go lie down..."

Spencer and Park looked at each other. Then Spencer grabbed Sara-Officer Park's hand and raced through the back door. "Hey!"

"You heard the Chief." He said. "We need to find those doughnuts! The Chief will probably have a meltdown if he doesn't get some soon!"

"But what about wor-"

"That can wait! We need those doughnuts! I haven't had breakfast yet!"

Twenty minutes later, Officers Spencer and Park walked into the main location for Wheatley's Bakery. It was a busy morning, plenty of normal civilians walking through the doors for their own morning snacks before work, complicated by the fact that it was rush hour. Still, the two cops didn't go unnoticed.

Spencer walked up to the front counter when the customers finally left and held up his badge. "Good morning. I'm Officer Spencer, and this is Officer Park. Is your manager around?"

The young, thin man looked nervously at the badge, then at Spencer. Spencer wasn't a large man by any means, but he had the kind of muscles that showed through his crisp, dark uniform. Officer Park wasn't to be sneezed at, either. Her auburn hair hung loose around her shoulders, but she had a low glower of someone that wasn't to be messed with.

"Um, Yea, just let me go and get him, sir..." The youth said, before practically running behind the front desk and into a small office at the back. They waited patiently for about five minutes before an equally scrawny old man emerged from the back.

"Can I help you, Officers?" He asked in a wheezing voice.

"You can actually." Officer Spencer said. "Your morning delivery truck to the Police Station never arrived. We were wondering if you could help us find it."

The old man began to sweat. "Well, you see..."

"Look, Mr...?"

"Danish. Daniel Danish."

"Mr. Danish, right now there are almost 40 Cops back at the station who are quite upset that they didn't get their morning pastries." Spencer said, eyes narrowing. "And they're going to be even _more_ upset if they don't get them soon, you hear me?"

"Um... Well..."

"Mr. Danish, could we please have a look at your paperwork?" Officer Park jumped in, before Spencer could say anything they would both regret later. "Mostly duty rosters and delivery confirmations, if you could."

"...Well, I don't see why not." Mr. Danish said, caught between Spencer's Glare and Park's pleading look. "Follow me."

The Manager's office for Wheatley's bakery looked worse than Frank Honey's desk, and that was saying something. Stacks of paper covered every spare inch of floor, and most of the desk as well. The only clean spot was right in front of the door, mostly so that it could open.

"Pardon the mess. They've been trying to get me to upgrade to a computer for ages, but, well, they call me old-fashioned for a reason." Mr. Danish said. "The Delivery receipts should be in that pile over by the window. Now, If you'll excuse me, I'm going to see to young Jerry. Poor boy is easily startled." He continued, and left the officers in a testament to recycling.

"Where do we start?" Spencer asked, a little lost. He picked up a stack of papers and began to rifle through them. "Delivery orders... Memos...Resumes... I don't think this stuff is actually organized in any way."

"Then we'll make it organized." Park said, taking charge. Paper trails were her specialty. "Okay, so we'll put delivery orders to the bakery here, and from the bakery over there. Interdepartmental memos should go..."

It was slow going, and took most of the morning. But finally, the piles of paper had been organized, and slimmed down as needed. While the actual amount of paper in the room hadn't been reduced, the piles were organized by category and the wastebasket turned into an unsettlingly large box of unnecessary paperwork.

"Well, now that that's done..." Officer park said, looking around. "Here's the duty roster. Do you remember who the delivery guy is for our shipment?"

"No clue. Frank usually manages the delivery." Spencer said, nursing one of many paper cuts.

"okay..." Park said, looking down the sheet. "Aha! One Mr. Kreppel, Delivery driver. Now, where's his application..."

"Hey, are we supposed to be looking at that? Isn't it confidential information?" Spencer asked.

"Not in a police investigation." Park said, sorting through a smaller pile. "Here we go. Damian Kreppel." She looked down the resume. "Huh. He's never actually worked as a delivery driver. In fact, I don't recognize any of these job descriptions..." She said, looking further down the paper.

"What are you looking for?"

"His address." Park said. "Here. She said, pointing out a spot on the form. "recognize it?"

"...Yeah, but that doesn't make sense." Spencer said, taking the piece of paper. "That's in the middle of the warehouse district in Auburn. There aren't any residential buildings there."

"Really?" Officer Park asked.

"Yeah. It's mostly empty buildings." Spencer said. "Now why would our missing delivery truck driver put an empty warehouse as his address...?"

"Let's find out." Officer Park said. She pulled out her communicator. "Officer Phillips, you there?"

" _I'm here."_ Ellie Phillips said from the other end of the call. _"You two find something?"_

"Maybe." Officer Park said. "Our missing delivery driver has a weird work history and a suspicious address. We're going to check it out and see if he decided to skip work while on the job."

"Good thinking." Ellie said. "And... I don't suppose there's any way you could hurry up your investigation?"

"Why?" Spencer asked, leaning over Park's shoulder.

"It's the Chief. He's started going into withdrawal because he hasn't had any doughnuts today."

"What? But there's a doughnut place right across the street!" Spencer said. Which was true. Unfortunately, it didn't open until lunchtime.

"We're trying, but at this point, I don't think he can hear us." Ellie replied. "Just find that truck as soon as you can, okay?"

"Can do, Officer Phillips." Park said. "Over and out." And ended the call. Stowing her communicator, she turned to Officer Spencer. "Let's find Mr. Danish and let him know we're going to find his missing driver."

They walked out of the office and back into the dining area. But Mr. Danish was nowhere to be seen. "That's funny." Officer Spencer commented as he walked toward the front door. "Could have sworn I heard him earlier."

"Maybe he stepped out for a minute?" Park pondered. Jerry the clerk was still standing behind the desk, shaking slightly. "Hey! If Mr. Danish comes back, tell him we found what we were looking for." She called over. Jerry looked at them and nodded his head, but didn't open his mouth.

"Let's go." Officer Spencer said as they walked out the front door. After a minute, he popped his head back in. "Would it be possible to get a couple of the jelly-filled ones? To go?"

"Spencer!"

"What? I still haven't eaten yet!"

The sun was high in the sky by the time they reached the warehouse district of Auburn Docks. Spencer looked at the address they had written down, then at the building. It was a standard grey warehouse, with the doors closed, bolted, and locked. _Now that's interesting..._

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Park asked.

Spencer Nodded. "Take a look at that lock. Little shiny and new to be put on an old place like this. And look at those tire tracks. There's an awful lot for an abandoned building."

"Think we should knock?" Park questioned.

Spencer climbed out of the car and shook his head. "no, but I do want to get a good luck in one of those windows. I think there's more to Mr. Kreppel than was on his application."

They parked the car and crept to the warehouse. Spencer tested the door and found it unlocked and, even more surprising, already open. He looked at Officer Park, shrugged, and crept though the door. He wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially considering the height of those windows.

The warehouse was huge, and filled with all sorts of interesting and mysterious items. Most of the mystery concerned how they got there; Spencer recognized five of the 17 stolen cars right off the bat. Ding Ding Ding. He crouched behind a convenient barrel and motioned for Park to do the same. They weren't alone in the warehouse.

"I'm telling you, they're going to find out!" A voice said. Spencer recognized it instantly as Mr. Danish's. "They were in the shop earlier asking all sorts of questions! And they wanted to see the paperwork!"

"So?" A different voice asked. "It's not like any of that old paperwork can lead them here."

"Well..." A third voice said.

"What was that, Kreppel?"

"Nothing."

"Don't worry your old head, Danish." The second voice said. "Besides, they'll be so busy worrying about their precious doughnuts they won't have time to look for anything else we stole."

"Why did we steal the doughnut truck again?"

"Because we could! And because we wanted to keep the cops busy!"

"But was hiding them with all the other vehicles such a good idea?"

"What, you scared?" The voice said "The Red Bear Claw gang doesn't fear anything!"

Spencer peeked around the corner for a fraction of a second. Sure enough, there was the doughnut truck. He looked back at Officer Spencer. She was holding up her communicator, and a little red light shone. She'd caught their whole conversation, a confession without coercion.

Their eyes met. There were many things a crook did in this city that were wrong. You robbed, you stole, you threatened others. But there was one line that even the feared Pappalardos didn't cross.

You didn't mess with a cop's doughnuts.

As one, they stood up and fired their grapple guns. Before recently, they were a waste of space, but Officer McCain had found that they were extremely handy for tying up hasty crooks rather quickly. Normally they would have shouted a warning first. But you didn't get between a cop and their doughnuts.

The fight was over before it ever began. In the end, seven people were arrested for theft, robbery, forced entry, and kidnaping innocent doughnuts.

Spencer slapped the last of the handcuffs on as Park called the Police Station. "Officer Phillips, could you send a cop or two to this address? Preferably with a prison transport truck?"

" _I could, but everyone's a little busy and tense right now."_ Ellie replied. _"I don't know if I'll be able to find anyone free..."_

"Did we mention," Spencer said, leaning over Park's shoulder with a devilish grin. "That we found the doughnut truck?"

" _Well, that changes things. Hang on, I'll see if I can find someone."_

It took five minutes for every cop in Lego City to descend upon the warehouse.

The building was crawling with officers, several with doughnuts in their mouths after the doughnut truck had been raided. (And signed for, of course.) All 17 missing vehicles were catalogued, and several boxes of money that would prove to come from the 24 banks around the city.

Over by the front of the warehouse, Dunby was lying on a stretcher. Carefully, Honey waved a delicious doughnut (with pink frosting and sprinkles) over his nose. Dunby jumped up and ate the doughnut out of instinct. Of course, he also ended up trying to eat Honey's hand in the process. Much jumping about and panicking ensued.

Officer Spencer leaned on the hood of his vehicle as he watched the scene, the processing and the sorting. His job was done, at least for now. Officer Park sat beside him, munching on a chocolate old-fashioned.

"Well, I'd say we did a good day's work right here." Spencer said, watching the scene.

"We sure did, partner." Officer Park said with a smile.

"In fact, I would say it was a red letter day."

"How about a Red Doughnut Day?"

"That works even better."


	4. The Gang's (Are) All Here

Case File #523: The Gang's (Are) All Here

 _Day: July 24th_

 _Time: 2:17 P.M._

 _Location: Lego City PD-Cherry Tree Hills_

Ted Baxter Dumped an Ice cube down the back of his neck and sighed. It was a hot day at the PD, and the air conditioning was straining as it was to keep the building cool. Whoever had designed the building with all these windows was an idiot when it came to heating and cooling. The place was a sauna in the Summer and an Icebox in the winter. Hopefully the heat would be enough to keep the criminals off the streets and in cooler places, like 5th floor basements. And ice cream factories.

" _That's right folks, it's a scorcher today!"_ A voice said from the radio that sat by the break-room microwave. " _And it's going to keep getting hotter! The Heat Wave is expected to last until the end of the week! Time to take a break, grab that sunscreen, and hit the beach!"_

Ted groaned. Sure, it was easy for the DJ to be chipper- _He_ got to stay inside all day. Any Cop that hadn't fallen from heatstroke was expected to pick up the slack, and that meant patrols in the hot sun. Three cops had gone to the hospital in the last two days. The rest were trying to stay indoors and in the shade as much as they could-Cars were not their friend when the AC started to give out.

"Baxter!" A voice called. Ted looked over to see the secretary, Bea, walk into the room. "You busy at the moment?"

"Just melting into the floor." Ted said, pulling another ice cube out of the tray.

"Well, stop melting and get out to your car. Officer Jenkins just called for back-up in the Pagoda district. She hasn't engaged yet, but she probably will have by the time you get out there."

"Yes, Ma'am." Ted said, standing up and pulling his blue work shirt off the back of the chair. Officer Jenkins was the PD's expert in Gang crime. Specifically, stopping it. And she'd been stopping it for the past three days, non-stop. The Heat wave had brought a Crime wave with it.

"And tell her that Chief Dunby wants to see her in his office right away, when you get out there." Bea continued. "He says it's urgent and he doesn't have time to wait for lollygaggers."

Baxter winced. It was going to be hard to convince Jenkins to come in for a meeting, especially when she was on patrol. And Dunby didn't like to waste time waiting for people.

"This is going to be fun." Ted said to himself as he walked out the door of the break room. Then he stopped, ducked back in, and grabbed an ice pack and some water bottles. Jenkins was one person that didn't need to be dropping from heatstroke.

Jenkins popped her gum and watched the group of gang members cross the street. They hadn't done anything-yet. But there was that shifty look about their eyes and the careful way they stepped that suggested trouble.

That, and they hadn't even bothered to take off their prison uniforms. A dumb move, but it made it easier to spot crooks from a mile away. They were headed towards the Gates of Tranquillity with a purpose that could only mean one thing-property damage. Jenkins tossed her gum in the trash and crossed the street after them, moving to intercept. She'd called for backup when she'd first spotted the group, but there wasn't any guarantee of it coming-not with officers dropping like flies.

"Alright!" One of them yelled as they reached the top of the steps. "LET'S BREAK SOME STUFF!"

Innocent citizens began to panic as Jenkins raced to the top of the steps. The gang members had started to smash decorative planters and carve...not-so-innocent things on the walls and the gates. There wasn't a whole lot to break, but they were certainly trying their hardest.

"Gentlemen, I'm going to have to ask you to stand down." Jenkins said calmly, watching the scene. "It might start to get ugly if you don't."

They didn't hear her. And if they did, they acted as if they hadn't. The chaos continued as citizens streamed away from the Gates. Jenkins smiled, shrugged and pulled out her grapple gun. She'd given them the obligatory warning.

Now the fun could start.

Three of the gang members were down before they even realized they were being assaulted. Jenkins got handcuffs on two of them, although the third broke out of his restraints disturbingly fast. The rest turned to see why their comrades had stopped, and one of them paled.

"It's GANGCRUSHER!" He shouted, backing away fast. "RUN FOR IT!"

The Gang members turned as one and began to run down the West steps. Jenkins fired the grapple gun again, but only managed to snag a couple. She growled. It was going to be a nightmare to track down the rest of them.

Then there was an engine rev from...somewhere. The crooks came screaming back up the West steps, terrified of something other than Gangcrusher. Then she saw why; a Police cruiser came roaring up the steps, not content to wait by the sidewalk for the crooks. But whoever was driving hadn't accounted for the stairs acting as a ramp-They ended up flying over the heads of everyone involved, and down the steps on the other side.

Jenkins wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth; the rest of the gang was in her sights again. She had the rest of them down on the ground and in handcuffs when the Cruiser came back up the steps. Slowly this time. It parked between a destroyed planter and an overturned cart, and the driver got out.

"What took you so long?!" Jenkins called as Ted Baxter made his way over, slightly unsteadily.

"Traffic." Baxter replied, grabbing the first gang member to shove them in the back of the car. "I got stuck behind three different ice cream trucks on the way here."

"Well, Try to make it two next time." Jenkins said, grabbing another crook and shoving him in on the opposite side. "This lot almost got away."

"No!" Baxter said in mock surprise. "They almost got away from Gangcrusher? How terrible!"

Jenkins gave him a glare the would have curdled ice cream. "Drop the sarcasm, Officer. just get these guys back to the station." She said as the grabbed the leader, who was cringing away from her fiery temper.

"Can do. By the way, Chief Dunby wants to see you whenever you get back in. Well, he wants to see you right now, but I told him you were a little busy." Baxter mentioned as he crammed a gang member into the trunk. "Geez, I should have brought the truck."

"And I'm staying busy." Jenkins said as she shoved the last gang member in, pushing the door closed behind him. "Crime doesn't wait for meetings and committees."

"I'm not going to argue with you." Baxter said, reaching into the passenger seat. He tossed her a water bottle. "I'm smarter than that. I'll ask you to reconsider. It's almost three, and I doubt another gang is going to make trouble right after these guys made a fuss and got arrested."

Jenkins looked at the water bottle in her hand. Condensation still collected on the outside, and she realized just how thirsty she was. She'd drunk half the bottle before she'd realized it. She looked up at the sun. It was now the hottest part of the day-only idiots were going to stay out in this heat.

"If you are going to stay out in this heat," Baxter continued, reaching into the car again. "Take this. We don't need one of our top officers passing out from heatstroke." He tossed her a baseball cap.

She looked at the cap in her hands, then at the sun. "I think I'll catch a ride with you. I'm not gonna put off Dunby 'till the end of the shift. He'd eat me alive."

"Not if you toss him a doughnut first." Baxter joked as he climbed in the drivers seat. "And I'm driving, don't fight me on this one. You take a break. You'll need your energy when you meet with Dunby."

It was a blessing to be back in a place with air conditioning. Jenkins watched with another water bottle as the gang was hauled out of the cruiser and into the building for processing. She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and listened to the opera of the Lego City PD; The echo of footsteps off the walls, the shuffle of paperwork, the dulcet tones of a phone ringing, and the not-so-dulcet CRASH that could only be Frank trying to fix the computer again. It was an office, sure. But it was also a kind of home.

"Jenkins!" Someone shouted. She looked up to see Chief Dunby calling from the second floor. "Briefing room! ONE MINUTE!"

She sighed, peeled herself off the wall and walked over to the elevator. Baxter followed her, in, tucking a file folder under his arm. "The meeting's about the recent crime wave thats hit the city." He said, handing her a piece of paper as the doors closed. "Dunby's hoping that if we put enough heads together we can find a common link between all these crimes."

Jenkins looked at the list and whistled. "That's a lot of crimes." She said. She wasn't exaggerating either-The PD hadn't seen numbers like this in years, not even during the Fury case last summer.

Baxter nodded as the elevator doors opened on the second floor, allowing a few more officers and detectives in. "This many crimes can't be a coincidence."

"No." Jenkins agreed as the elevator rose. "But most these look like they could be. I know most of these gangs; they all avoid each other if possible. I can't see them working together."

"Officer Spencer said the same thing about the car robberies." Baxter replied. "Way too many to be a coincidence, but none that have enough in common to suggest a link."

"And I suppose you've run into the same problem?" Jenkins asked.

"Actually, no." Baxter replied, scanning the list. "There haven't been any huge crimes or frauds. It's all little things."

"Well, we better find that link soon." Jenkins said as the elevator opened to the briefing room. "There won't be anything left in Lego City to steal at this rate."

The Briefing Room was a large, circular room where the BIG cases were discussed. There was a podium and stage, multiple chairs, and a popcorn machine. The PD knew what was important. It sat unused today, though-no one wanted extra salt when they needed to stay hydrated. Instead, officers milled around the room with water and ice cream bars, doing their best to beat the heat. Baxter spotted Shaky Harry over by the window with a cup of coffee, twitching nervously. Baxter wasn't sure if he'd had six shots, or only five, but it was clear he'd had far too much again.

"All right, settle down!" Dunby called from the podium. Around the room, officers and detectives settled into chairs. "I'm calling this meeting to order! Now, first off..."

Baxter listened with half an ear as the meeting droned on. The facts were essentially what was on the paperwork everyone had got: Lots of little crimes with no connection. LOTS of them. It was like looking for a catfish in a murky pond full of minnows. He looked at the data map on the wall. Lots of dots, no lines. Yet there was something about the data that bugged him.

"Baxter!" Dunby shouted. Ted jumped in his seat.

"Yes Chief?" He asked, sitting at attention.

"I'm putting you on Patrol duty with Officer Jenkins. I know its not your usual beat, but we need all the help we can get. And it's not like you've been doing anything recently."

Normally, Baxter worked paper forensics. He looked at paper trails and insurance scams, and stayed indoors most of the time. Because of that, he had a bit of a unique way of thinking. One that he applied now; instead of looking for something that wasn't there and should be, he looked for something that should be and wasn't. He took another look at the date map on the wall. And he found it.

Three days later, Baxter sagged against a wall as Jenkins cuffed another robber. He'd started a plain-clothes Patrol with her, and it had been an...interesting experience. Jenkins had this street presence around her, one that managed to keep crooks away to the point it was obvious they were crooks because they were avoiding her. She was calm, collected and had a look that said you were toast if you crossed her. Baxter, on the other hand, looked like a lost, absentminded tourist-In other words, a target. He'd been assaulted by ten pickpockets and robbers in the last three days. It wasn't intentional by any means. But it made finding and catching crooks a lot easier. If not a little more painful.

"That's five today." Jenkins said, observing as they tossed the crook into the waiting transport truck. "This is insane. They're getting out as soon as we put them in. I saw this guy two days ago in Bright Lights trying to rob an old lady."

"Really?" Baxter said.

"Yeah. Bit of a surprise for him when she started hitting him with her purse. It was kind of funny, really."

"I'll bet. I'll call the station and ask them to check security over at Albatross." Baxter said, reaching for the radio in the truck. Albatross Prison had lax security on the best of days. But it wouldn't do any good if crooks could walk off the island as soon as they got on. It was a minor miracle that they hadn't seen Rex Fury back on the streets. Or a nightmare, depending on your paranoia levels. He looked in the truck. The Radio was gone. "Of all the..."

"What?" Jenkins asked, looking over.

"They stole the radio."

"...This needs to stop. NOW."

"I know it." Baxter said, pulling out his personal phone, which thankfully was still in his pocket. "Bea? Baxter. Yes, I know. It got stolen. Look, can you ask someone to go check Albatross security? We're starting to see repeat criminals. Chase would probably be a good choice. He terrifies the warden."

"Why don't we ask someone who's seen it a little more recently?" Jenkins said, hopping in the back of the truck. "Now, why don't you tell us how you got back out on the streets so quick?" Jenkins said with a growl, pushing the crook into the back of the truck. "And maybe you would happen to know what's with the crime sprees recently?

Slicky Jims wasn't a brave crook by any means. But he wasn't stupid, either. "I don't know nuthin' about the hole in the laundry chute." He muttered. "And I don't know nuthin about the big rumble goin' down in Fresco tonight."

"Fresco, huh?" Jenkins pondered. She climbed out of the truck and looked at Baxter. "We might have a lead. If Chase is headed over to Albatross, tell him to check the laundry chute."

"Got it." Baxter said, and passed the information along to Bea. Then he hung up. "I hope we get this sorted out soon. Five more officers have gone to the hospital since yesterday-We're on a skeleton staff as it is."

"I know it." Jenkins said. Shifts were getting longer, and rest time was getting shorter. And the sun kept getting hotter and hotter. "Something's going to have to give soon."

"Well, we can at least get this fellow back to the PD and..." Baxter said, looking into the truck. "And he's gone."

Jenkins roared and hit the side of the truck. "That little punk!" She yelled. Baxter sighed. He honestly wasn't that surprised. Slicky Jims was called that for a reason. It was hard to catch him.

"Well, since we're short one criminal to take back to the station, why don't we grab something to eat?" He spotted a Pappalardo's ice cream truck parked by the road further down the street. "Come on, I'll pay."

"We just had a criminal escape on us and you want to buy Ice Cream?" Jenkins nearly shouted.

"Look, it was Slicky Jims. He's long gone by now, there's nothing we can do about it. Besides, I've got a lead I want to follow up." Baxter said, walking to the ice cream truck. "And I'd feel better about crooks stealing my wallet if there wasn't actually anything in it."

He walked up to the Pappalardo's Ice Cream truck and stopped in Surprise. No way he could be this lucky. Moe De Luca was in the truck, swapping money for ice cream cones faster than a professional cup-stacker. He waited patiently for the crowd to pass, then stepped up.

"Two Blueberry Pomegranate cones, please." He said, setting the money on the counter. "I'm surprised to see you out here, Moe. Don't you usually work in the office?"

"I wish I was." Moe said, taking the money and nodding to the other man in the vehicle. "The Ice cream business is booming. TOO booming, actually. We can barely keep up with orders as it is. Vinnie's got every man that's not working in the factory out on the streets, including me!"

"Really?" Baxter asked as Jenkins wandered over.

"Yeah! We're in an' outta there with barely a chance to use the restroom!" Moe said, handing over the two ice cream cones. "The boys haven't even had a chance to do the side work since this heat wave started-" Moe said, then cut himself off, wondering if he'd said too much.

"Shame." Baxter said, handing a cone to Jenkins. "Sorry the boys don't get any time off. I'm sure their families miss them at the rate they're going." He continued, pretending not to hear the comment that Moe made. He put a few coins in the tip jar and turned to Jenkins, letting Moe deal with the next customer. "Now what was that lead you said you had?" he asked, carefully staying within Moe's earshot.

"Slicky said there was some sort of rumble going down in Fresco tonight." Jenkins said, taking a bite of ice cream. "My guess is the gangs are tired of dancing around each others' feet. Don't know why it's in Fresco, though-that's the only place in the city there hasn't been any crime. Any worse than usual, anyway." She said, sneaking a side glance at the ice cream truck. "It's odd."

The music, which had been playing from the radio in the ice cream truck, ended. _"Hey Hey Hey folks!"_ The chipper DJ said from somewhere in LEGO City. _"We're taking a look at the weather and bad news! We've got a big ol' thunderstorm that's going to hit tonight! Stay inside and keep those windows closed, folks!"_

Everyone around the ice cream truck looked at the speakers. Baxter was the only one who smiled. A Break in the weather and a break in the case.

The wind, hot and temperate, was picking up. Dark clouds started to cover LEGO City, sending everyone scurrying for home and the shelter of their beds. Well, almost everyone.

"Why are we out here again?" Jenkins asked. They were over looking a large plaza in Fresco, which was abandoned, at least for now. Baxter and Jenkins had climbed up to a small ledge which gave them some cover, but allowed them to view the scene and intervene, if necessary.

"We're going to make an arrest. Several, if we're lucky." Baxter said, watching the plaza for movement.

"And just now do you know that? Those gangs could be meeting anywhere in this District." Jenkins pointed out.

"Easy. It's right in front of Pappalardo's." Baxter said, pointing to the popular ice cream business, which was still going full bore. "Remember the Briefing a few days ago?"

"Of course."

"Well, something about all the data struck me as odd-it's all been small groups. ALL of it. We haven't seen any crimes from the big crime families in the City, including the Pappalardos." Baxter pointed out. "And remember what Moe said earlier? They're so busy the boy's can't do any of the 'side work'? The demand for ice cream is so high they haven't been able to keep up on the crime business. They've essentially dropped out of the race."

"I don't get it."

"Think of it this way; When we were looking for the link between the crimes, we were looking for this catfish in a murky pond full of minnows. Well, we couldn't find it because someone took the catfish out-It was never there. We weren't looking for a link, we were looking for a catalyst. And that Catalyst is the Pappalardos."

"Well, if you're so smart, why is the ruckus out here?"

"Easy-The small gangs are getting braver. They're trying to fill the power void left by the lack of big gang activity. The reason there's been no crime boom here in Fresco is they're still afraid the Pappalardos are going to come back. Except they're not afraid anymore."

"You don't think..."

"They're going to try to take out the Pappalardos for good." Baxter said, leaning against the wall.

Jenkins thought for a moment. "Well, What are we going to do about it?"

"For now? Just watch." Baxter said, pointing to the other end of the plaza. "They don't know it yet, but their little rumble is going to end in pain, and handcuffs."

At the other end of the plaza, a huge crowd was gathering. Crooks and criminals from all over the city were gathering to lay siege to the Pappalardo Crime family. They crossed the plaza, monster trucks revving and crooks cracking their knuckles. "Come on." Jenkins said, and crossed the plaza so that she stood between the mob and the factory. Surprised, Baxter followed.

"All right!" Jenkins yelled, bringing the crowd to a halt. "You have five minutes to cease and desist! Scram or you're going back to Albatross!"

There was a pause. Then the trucks revved again as the mob pushed forward.

"You can't arrest all of us, Gangcrusher!" Someone in the crowd yelled. "You'd need an army to catch us all!"

The storm broke, lighting and thunder echoing across the dark sky.

The gates to the Ice Cream factory opened.

It looked as if a small army had assembled within its walls. And at the forefront of that army was its general. Vinnie Pappalardo stepped out of the gates and looked at the mob outside his business.

"Now, I'm told that you folks want to start a little fight." He said, surveying the crowd with a steely eye as rain began to fall. "And I'm not too keen on starting a little scuffle now. Not in this weather."

NOW the mob was scared. It was one thing when it was just two cops. But the Entire Pappalardo Crime family... That was another thing. There was a long silence as the two groups sized each other up. Then a suicidal gang member rushed forward, waving a wrench. "We can take them!" He yelled. "They're only-"

A fist ran into his face. Then another to his gut. Then two strong arms cartwheeled him through the air and onto the ground, where handcuffs fell around his wrists. Jenkins looked down at the idiotic man then at the rest of the crowd. "Assaulting a police officer and aiming to start a riot." She stated, looking at the crowd. "Who's next?"

There was a single pause. Then every member of that mob screamed like a little girl and started to run. The small army that was the Pappalardos yelled and rushed forward, giving chase. Except for Vinnie, who stood to the side with Baxter and Jenkins and watched the chaos as the rain poured down.

"So...what now?" Baxter asked.

"We start arresting people." Jenkins said, walking away with a wolfish grin on her face. "Call Ellie and have her get people out here with prison trucks. We're going to need a lot of them."

Vinnie looked over at Baxter. He leaned in, his voice low. "Thanks for the tip." He whispered, then walked back into the factory.

Baxter smiled. He knew that Moe would come through. He pulled out his phone and called the station. "Hey Ellie? Round up the crew. We've got a lot of arrests to make..."


	5. Power Problems

_Lego City Police Department_

 _Case File #891_

 _Power Problems_

 _Time: 7:43 P.M._

 _Location: LCPD Headquarters, Cherry Tree Hills_

It wasn't often that Lego City got thunderstorms; the bustling metropolis was known for its sunny skies and profitable tourism business. But every now and then there was a day when the dark clouds rolled off the ocean and the air tasted of electricity. Hot Dog stands rushed to close down and beach-goers raced for the shelter of their hotels. When Lego City got a thunderstorm, it got a thunderstorm.

Tonight was no different.

Frank Honey jumped as another flash of lighting lit the room, startling him from his nervous stupor. Due to the...inclement weather, most of the staff had been unable to leave after they clocked out for the day. Frank's shift had ended two hours ago, but he was still hiding under his desk. Or rather, the receptionist's desk.

"Frank, you've been hiding under there for an hour." Bea said, looking down at him from her chair. "Don't you have anything productive to do while you wait for the storm to pass?'"

"I wish I did!" Frank cried from under the desk. "I don't remember storms being this long!"

"This IS a rather big storm." Chief Dunby muttered from the middle of the lobby. "Spencer!" He shouted as a roll of thunder boomed. "Turn the radio on and see if we can get a weather report!"

Spencer saluted and reached for the radio he kept next to his desk-an old 80s style, not the standard police issue most officers had. He fiddled with the dials as static weaved in and out.

*kssh*

"-oh-oh I'm Walking on Sunshine, Oh-oh-oh-"

*Kssh*

"-ancis, darling, we mustn't be found out!"

"You're right! Let's get insid-"

*kssh*

"-uy your Lego City Sun Lotion today! Only $39.99 not including ship-"

*kssh*

"-nd Now for the weather!"

"There it is! Hold it there!" Someone in the lobby shouted. Spencer balanced out the dials so they could (mostly) hear the announcer.

"That storm is coming big and large, folks! The storm front is expected to last until midnight, hope you didn't have any dinner plans! In the meantime, make sure your flashlight batteries are fresh and you've got a couple gallons of water and some blankets, because there are expected to be pow-"

There was a huge crash of lightning and thunder directly over the building. The lights flickered, then died as the front lobby was plunged into darkness.

"...Power outages." Dunby finished. "Alright, Everyone stay calm."

Naturally, this was the cue for everyone to panic.

Five minutes later, after several screams and bruised shins and hips from bumping into desks and coffee tables, the lobby was almost back in order. Anyone who was likely to start screaming and running around again had been strongly encouraged to sit down and shut up.

"Alright, now that that nonsense is over with," Dunby said, brushing off his jacket. "Chase, find the supply closet and more importantly, some flashlights. Baxter-"

"Which one?"

"_, find our maintenance man and make sure we're not going to lose anything else. Bea, see if you can find some asprin for my headache."

"You have a headache, sir?"

"I will soon. Now Hop to it! Everyone else, at ease. Eat a doughnut if you've got it." Chief Dunby snarled, then turned to the front desk. Quiet conversations started around the room as staff moved to find emergency supplies, occasionally cut off by the now frequent bursts of lightning and thunder. Tension was still high in the room, intensified by the darkness. Frank continued to tremble under the desk. It was dark now, and scary. If only Ellie were here to-

He sat straight up, slamming his head into the underside of the desk. Ignoring his pain, he climbed out from under the counter and made a bee-line for the elevator. Or he would have, if he hadn't run smack into Chase on the way there.

"Woah! Slow down, Frank!" Chase said, steadying the shaking police officer. "What's wrong?"

"It's Ellie!" Frank panted. "She's down in the basement all by herself! It's pitch black down there! She's probably terrified!"

Chase thought about it. While Ellie was probably far from terrified, she still wasn't in a good position. Unlike the lobby, which was half windows, the basement didn't have any natural light sources. They called it "the dungeon" for good reason. Ellie wouldn't be able to do anything but sit and wait for the power to come back on. Unless she'd gone home before the storm started.

"All right, I'll come down and help you look." Chase said, leading Frank over to the elevator. They ran into _, who was standing at the elevator door.

"Any luck finding the maitenance guy?" Chase asked as they waited.

"Nope. Any luck on the flashlights?"

"The supply closet didn't have any. I know _ Keeps one at his desk, though. I'm going to see if I can find it."

"Good Idea. Why's the elevator taking so long?"

They stared at the doors for a minute before it hit them.

"Oh yeah..."

"Power's out..."

"Any idea where the stairs are?"

As it turns out, they didn't have a clue.

"Seriously? There's no stairs to the basement?" Chase asked after ten minutes of searching.

"Maybe they got taken out during the last renovation." Frank suggested, still trying to feel for a doorknob.

"Well, how are we supposed to get out in case of an emergency?"

"There's a back door to the parking lot, but I'm not going out in the storm to get to it." Ted said with a shake of his head. "Face it, we're stuck."

"Maybe not..." Chase said, looking up. "These ducts lead into the basement, right?"

"Yeah, they reach the whole building. I can hear Rodney's workouts from the third floor with these things. It's the one thing they've never fixed." Ted said, squinting into the darkness. "You're not suggesting...?"

"I am. We'll get to the basement with these." Chase said. "We just need to get up there..."

"Oh! We can use this filing cabinet!" Frank said, running over to a cabinet along the wall. "oph! This is heavy! How many files are in this thing?"

Ted walked over to the cabinet and opened a drawer. "A lot. And some cake. And an anvil. Why do we keep our anvils in filing cabinets?"

"Well, where else are we going to put them?" Frank asked as he continued to push on the cabinet. Ted shrugged then joined him. Eventually, they were able to get the cabinet underneath a vent in the air duct. Frank jumped up on the filing cabinet and pulled the vent off. "It's really dark in there..." He said nervously.

"Aw, c'mon Frank, it's not like there's anything in there." Ted said. "Not even a Snipe!"

"W-w-what's a snipe?" Frank asked nervously.

"Oh, just a little thing with lots of teeth that likes to lurk in Air Ducts. But the exterminator was here last week, and he's mostly sure that the ones we had died out. You'll be fine." Ted replied cheerfully. "Now get in there!"

Frank looked back into the darkness of the ducts, which seemed even darker than the darkness outside the ducts. Then, in an uncharacteristic fit of bravery, He pulled himself into the duct, vanishing through the open vent.

"You okay up there, Frank?" Chase called.

"Yep. It's just really dark."

"Well, it's not like you can get lost." Chase muttered. "Just go right and follow the ducts down to the basement. And watch out for-"

There was a sudden CRASH from within the vent, followed by several other unpleasent banging noises, grunts of pain and, inexplicably, a chicken.

"-the hole leading to the basement." Chase finished with a wince. "Frank?"

"Why's Frank in the air duct?" Ellie asked.

"He's looking for you." Chase said, without looking away from the air duct. Three seconds later, he jumped. "How'd you get up here?"

"I came up the stairs." Ellie said, pointing to the doorway which had been previously hidden by the filing cabinet. "You do know there's stairs, right?"

"I do now..." Chase sighed. "Hey Frank? Ellie's up here."

"Really?" Frank called from somewhere in the duct system. "Well, I guess I'll climb back up the ducts..."

"Frank, there's stairs in the basement. Where are you?"

"I think I'm in the supply closet next to the locker roo-GAH what was that!" Frank yelled. "It's skinny and has lots of little feelers on the end!"

"...That's a mop, Frank."

"Oh. Then I'm ok!"

"Frank, are there any flashlights down there?" Ted yelled.

"Yeah, a whole bunch of them."

"Then bring them up. I still need to find the maintenance guy."

"You mean Joe?" Ellie asked. "He stayed home sick today. Something about a bad piece of lobster."

"Well, that figures." Chase muttered. "Any idea where the breaker box is?"

"No idea."

"Fantastic. With our luck, it's outside in that storm." Ted said with a shake of his head. "I think we're stuck until this storm blows over."

"What are we supposed to do until then?" Chase asked.

"...Well, we do have that paperwork that's been piling up. Don't need power to do that, just the flashlights Frank's bringing up."

"Seriously?"

"What, do you want to ask the Chief to gather eveyone in a circle and start singing campfire songs?"

*MEANWHILE, AT THE FIRE STATION*

"Aw, c'mon chief, not Kumbaya again..."

"I'm the Chief, I decide, Lopez-Delgado! Alright, altogether now..."

*BACK AT THE POLICE STATION*

"I guess paperwork's alright." Chase said.

There was a CLUNK, then a hum as something in the building turned on. Then cheers rose up around the lobby as the lights flickered, then came back on around the building.

"I'm back!" Frank shouted as he came back up the stairs with a box of flashlights. "I found the room with all the backup light switches, so I flicked them all on, but nothing happened, so I flicked them back."

"Frank, you just got the power back on!" Ellie cheered, hugging him.

"Where was the room?" Ted asked.

"It's next to the locker rooms, across from the supply closet."

"Good to know. I'm writing that down for the next time Joe's sick." Ted said, walking over to his desk.

"I think the storm's clearing up!" Spencer said, looking out the window. Sure enough, the pounding of the rain was starting to lighten, and the lighting strikes were becoming less frequent.

"Hey Chief, can we go home now?" Chase called across the room.

"Yes. Ladies and Gents, have a safe drive home, and see you tomorrow." Dunby replied, already walking to the door with his coat and briefcase in hand.

There were cheers, followed by a stampede for the door. The resulting rumble was so loud it almost drowned out the huge CRASH from outside.

Almost.

"Oh no..." Chase sighed. The front doors to the police station opened up to reveal a massive tree trunk blocking the exit.

"We don't even have any trees on the compound!" The Chief yelled. "Where did this thing come from?"

"It looks like a log truck tipped over outside." Spencer said, straining to see out one of the windows. "I think we're still stuck."

"Hey, look on the bright side!" Frank said brightly. "At least we still have power!"

The lights chose that exact moment to flicker out again.

"I think one of those logs knocked over a light pole..."

"...Thanks, Frank."


	6. Old Lang's Sign

Files from the Lego City PD

Case file #1231: Odd Lang's Sign

Date: December31st

Time: 10:30 P.M.

Location: Lego City Precinct, Cherry Tree Hills

The Holiday party was in full swing when Chase and Natalia arrived. Garland and twinkling icicle lights were strung from every available banister, desktop, and portrait. Finger foods and snacks of all varieties were laid out on the receptionist desk, along with a magnificently large bowl of punch. Most of the force had (Surprisingly) made the effort and dressed up for the occasion, adding another level of splendor to the party. There was even a sprig of mistletoe hug in front of the main computer.

"Wow, this is magnificent, Chase!" Natalia said, raising her voice to be heard over the conversation and music. "but why the mistletoe?"

"We never got to have a Christmas party." Chase replied, bending down to speak into her ear. "And Bea was disappointed, so…We're kinda mixing the two."

"Hence the Mistletoe." Natalia guessed. "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll find our way over there sometime tonight."

Chase grinned. "Just be happy I didn't draw the short straw. I could be on Patrol tonight."

"Oh, I pity the poor sap on that duty."

* * *

Festival Plaza was decked out in every decoration you could think of for New Years. A grand, sparkling New Year's ball was perched at the top of a spire, waiting for the precise second for it to drop and signal the turn of the calendar.

"Gangcrusher" Jenkins growled and leaned against a lamppost. "I can't believe we drew the short straw." She muttered. Next to her, Ted Baxter was wearing a thick police coat and shivering. "Neither can I. I was so looking forward to the party."

"No, I can't believe I actually have to be in uniform for this." Jenkins replied, picking at her tie in distaste. Instead of her standard red vest and white shirt, She was wearing a nice police uniform.

"It's kinda hard to be a solid police presence in plainclothes." Ted pointed out. "Besides, you look great."

"Quit trying to flatter me, Baxter." Jenkins said, barking out a laugh.

"At least they let you use your car." Ted pointed out, pointing to the Monster truck that Jenkins called a car. Its tires were as tall as they were, and it gave an intimidating presence, despite the PD color scheme.

"There is that." Jenkins said with a shrug. "See any trouble yet."

"Um… Maybe a little." Ted said.

"What?"

"The ball's gone." Ted replied, pointing up. Sure enough, somehow, the New Year's ball had vanished from the top of the spire.

"In the truck. NOW." Jenkins said, hopping up into the driver's seat with ease. Ted had a little more trouble. "There! That van speeding away!" Jenkins pointed. One of the doors on the back of the van swung open, revealing the missing ball.

"I'm calling it in!"

* * *

Chase and Natalia had been mingling with the other party guests for a while. They'd laughed in merriment as Frank Honey tried valiantly to kiss Ellie under the mistletoe, only to end up kissing Dunby instead (Ellie had been trying to push Dunby and his wife under the mistletoe.) They politely listened to Officer Spencer go on about his sports car before Officer Park dragged him off to get more snacks. After about half an hour, they'd manage to find themselves by the main computer.

"Well, would you look at that." Chase said innocently, pointing up. Sure enough, the Mistletoe was still hanging there. "Looks like I owe someone a kiss."

"Oh, do you?" Natalia teased. She leaned a little closer. Both parties promptly jumped when the main computer squealed.

" _Ted Baxter to LCPD, anyone there?"_

Chase sighed and leaned over, enabling the camera. "Chase McCain here. What's happening, Ted?"

 _"We're in pursuit of a vehicle currently en route through Downtown_." Ted said, holding his communicator with one hand and the crash bar in the Monster Truck with another."

"Why on earth are you chasing a van, Baxter?" Dunby asked, as the party ground to a halt. "You and Jenkins are supposed to be in Festival Plaza!"

 _"They've stolen the New Year's Ball, sir. We're pursuing them now."_

"EVERYONE TO THE PARKING LOT!" Dunby shouted. Drinks and snacks were hastily set aside as officers grabbed their coats and keys and raced for their vehicles. Chase grabbed Natalia's hand and pulled her along. "HONEY! Stay behind and hold the fort!"

"Yes chief!" Frank shouted, saluting.

"Come on!" Chase shouted, racing for the specially-designed pursuit vehicle he'd requisitioned the month before. Around them, officers were climbing into vehicles and arguing over who got shotgun. Chase gunned the engine before Natalia had even closed the door; they were out of the parking lot before most of the crew had put their keys in the ignition.

Spencer and Park ran out to the parking lot to find a traffic jam. Everyone was in such a hurry to join the chase that there was a bottleneck at the exit.

"There's no way we're going to catch them like this." Park said in dismay. "There's too many cop cars!"

Spencer grabbed her hand and dragged her to the back lot. "Then we'll take my car!"

Dunby was trying to get his car started, but the engine kept sputtering out.

"You're flooding the engine, dear." His wife said, turning up the heat.

"I'm not flooding it!" Dunby spat back.

"Don't you have another car, dear…?"

"Well…"

* * *

Jenkins floored the gas, forcing her truck around another corner. "We're losing them!" She shouted into the radio. "There's too much traffic on the streets tonight!"

Baxter picked up his phone and dialed a number. "Hey Eddy, could you do me a favor? We need the streets cleared off for a police pursuit. Could you say something before the next song?"

 _"No problem, man!"_ someone said on the other end. Baxter said thanks and hung up.

"That should help with the traffic problem." He said.

"We're still losing them!" Jenkins retorted as the van with the ball rounded a corner ahead of them. Jenkins veered around the corner and came to a stop. The street had somehow turned into a gridlock.

"We're stuck!" Jenkins shouted.

 _"We're on it!"_ a voice responded. _"Spencer, what are you-AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"_

A red sports car sped over a ramp nearby, jumping the traffic and continuing the pursuit of the van. Flashing red and blue lights appeared on the top of the windshield, warning passing cars away.

 _"SPENCER, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!"_ Park shouted, still on the radio.

 _"I was thinking that was AWESOME!"_ He responded.

 _"ARE YOU KIDDING!?"_

Jenkins and Baxter looked at each other, unable to say anything. "Um…" Baxter said… "We should probably catch up with them."

"Yeah." Jenkins said, backing up her truck. "Poor Park's going to have a heart attack if we don't catch them soon. She _hates_ heights."

* * *

"ARE YOU MAD?!" Park shouted as the sports car raced through the streets after the van.

"We caught up with them, didn't' we?" Spencer asked, focused on the road. Traffic was finally starting to clear, thanks to an announcement over the radio. He was willing to bet that Ted had orchestrated it.

"Did we have to go over the pier?"

"Yes!"

Ahead of them, the van swung suddenly, screeching into an alley. Spencer followed. Then screeched to a stop as a large pile of boxes tumbled from nowhere, blocking their path. "These guys are good-They seem to know the city like the back of their hand."

 _"Well so do I!"_ Chase said over the radio. As the van sped out of the alley, it was quickly followed by Chase's car. Unlike Spencer and Jenkins, Chase's car was designed for quick turns and sudden stops. He was more than capable of keeping up with the elusive van. He followed it through every alley and street, never letting it out of his sight. It wasn't long before they were pursuing it up across the bridge into Bluebell National Park.

"Chase, the bridge!" Natalia shouted, pointing ahead. The bridge was starting to go up. If the criminals made it across, they would escape with the New Year's Ball.

"We're about to lose them!" Chase shouted into the radio. "Can anyone get to Bluebell National park?"

 _"Way ahead of you, McCain."_ Jenkins replied. There was a rumble, then a roar as Jenkin's truck jumped over the raising bridge. Chase was fairly certain he heard Ted screaming over the radio. The van slowed, then swerved to avoid the oncoming monster. It roared in the opposite direction, with both Chase and Jenkins in pursuit. The van swerved across lanes, trying to find an escape route. But LEGO City PD was finally out in full force; side alleys were blocked off, streets were barricaded leaving the criminals with only one route to go.

 _"McCain, there's an empty street ahead!"_ Jenkins shouted over the radio. And there was; there just weren't enough cops to cover the entire city.

 _"Comin' through!"_ Spencer shouted over the radio as his sports car came plowing out of said street, just as the van swerved to drive into it. There was a mighty CRASH as the two vehicles collided on their sides, then spun until a convenient dumpster stopped them both.

"Spencer!" Jenkins shouted, slamming on her brakes. Natalia jumped out of Chases' still-slowing car and ran toward the wreck, digging in her pockets for her first aid kit. Police descended in force upon the scene.

Three dazed clowns climbed out of the van with the new-years ball, tripping over themselves and each other in an attempt to escape. They almost made it, too, until they ran into something.

"And where do you think YOU'RE going?" Dunby asked, rolling forward menacingly on a Segway. The criminals backed up, then tried to run away, only to run into Dunby's wife on another Segway. They were caught. Seconds later, they were in handcuffs.

"Spencer, hang on!" Ted called, still trying to fight his way out of Jenkin's truck. Both Jenkins herself and Chase were out of their cars and racing over to the wrecked sports car next to the van. Natalia was already there, pulling a blanket out of her kit. Park was still conscious in the passenger seat, trying to shake Spencer awake.

"Spencer, c'mon, wake up!" Park pleaded. Spencer was unconscious, leaning against the wheel of his pride and joy. Jenkins reached them an immediately pulled out a knife to cut away the seatbelt. Chase pulled out a crowbar from…somewhere and began to pull at the door, which was crumpled and uneager to budge. Ted was calling for an ambulance, not to mention coordinating the scene to prevent another gridlock. "Spencer!"

"Eliot, you idiot, wake up!" Park shouted, slapping him across the face. Finally, he stirred, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs.

"Park…?" He asked, dazed. "…what happened?"

"Oh, thank goodness." Park sighed, leaning back in her seat. "You're going to be okay."

"…I am?" Spencer asked, still confused. "What happened?"

"C'mon, Spencer, you need to get that head looked at." Jenkins said as Chase finally pried the door open. "That was a pretty nasty stop."

"Huh?" Spencer asked as Chase and Jenkins pulled him out of the car. Park fought her skirts and pulled herself over the back, standing just behind them in case he fell. An ambulance pulled up just then.

"I'll go with him." Park said before the paramedic could open his mouth. "Can you guys handle the scene here?" She asked as Spencer was carefully loaded into the back.

"We've got it!" Ted assured them. "Jenkins, start loading up the ball into your truck-don't look at me like that, you're the only one who can haul it properly! Chase, think you can help Dunby with those clowns?"

"Which ones?" Chase asked. The officers putting the clown criminals into the prisoner transport were having a rough time of it. He waved and walked over, firmly grabbing hold of one of the clowns and tossing him in the back of the van.

"Jerry, you need any help in there?" Natalia asked the paramedic.

"Nah, we've got this. You enjoy your evening off." The paramedic reassured her. "Okay officer, just lean back and put this ice pack on…" The doors to the ambulance closed and it sped off to the hospital.

"Well, you heard the man!" Jenkins shouted to a couple of cops standing by. "Help me get this thing loaded up!"

* * *

Mayor Gleeson watched in delight as the newly-restored New Year's Ball dropped, heralding the start of a new year. As the ball hit the bottom, fireworks launched, spiraling into the air with bright colors and sounds. It was going to be a good year. She closed her eyes and listened to Lego City sing.

 _Should old acquaintants be forgot_

 _Let's meet under Old Lang's Sign_

 _For many days of joy and cheer_

 _And a slice of apple pie!_

Nearby, Jenkins and Ted stood by the truck and watched the festivities. "You ready for the next year?" Ted asked.

"I'm always ready." Jenkins replied. "Are you?"

"You know me." Ted said. "Always prepared."

"Think we should check in on Spencer and Park?" Jenkins asked.

"What's this? The Great Gangcrusher actually caring?" Ted said in mock surprise. "Just kidding. I called the hospital earlier. Spencer's going to be fine. Let's leave them alone for a bit."

"If you say so. Want some cocoa?"

"I'd love some. It's _freezing_ out here."

* * *

Sure enough, Spencer and Park were just checking out of the hospital as the New Year's Ball dropped. Spencer looked up as the fireworks went up.

"You okay?" Park asked.

"Yeah, but those fireworks aren't doing anything to help my headache." Spencer said. "Is my car really totaled?"

"We'll have to wait for Jim to take a look at it tomorrow, but it wasn't pretty. I'm just happy we made it out okay."

"Relatively speaking." Spencer said, putting a hand to his head. His hat didn't fit over the bandages, so he had to carry it.

"Hey, cheer up. It's a new year." Park said, gently taking his hand. "Want to go back to the party?"

"Nah, I don't think I could take it tonight. But I could walk you home." Spencer offered.

"I would love that."

* * *

Albatross prison could never be called festive at the best of times, let alone the worst. But the inmates had done their best with what little they had. Mugs of cocoa were traded as the prisoners sung songs and dreamt of days gone by.

"Hey, Blue, what's your New Year's Resolution?"

"To get out of here."

"Hey, that's mine!"

"Mine too!"

"Same here!"

"Aw, you guys are all copycats!"

* * *

On the other island connected to the city, Apollo Island, the mood was far more festive. The New Year's Ball was displayed on every screen and console the crew could get their hands on. While stronger spirits weren't allowed on the base, Sparkling Cider was. It was passed around in abundance as the dedicated crew of the Spacemen counted down the new year.

Pappalardo's Ice cream Parlor was alight with color, even though the door bore a sign that said "Closed for Private Party." Inside, every employee that Vinnie had (on both sides of his business) gathered around the ice cream bar and traded stories. Vinnie picked up his young son and spun him around, enjoying a night with his family.

The Fire Department, like their Police counterparts, were having their own holiday party. Their own personal bonfire was roaring as cake was passed around (Chocolate, by order of the chief) Fireman gathered around in a circle and sung as the flames leapt higher. Officer Ramon Lopez-Delgado watched with a smile and kept a close eye on the blaze-It was going to take time to pull out the big guns if it got out of control.

* * *

The Police returned to the precinct, tired but victorious. It didn't take long for everyone to pick up their cups and plates and resume the party. Spencer reached the radio first, and turned it from the standard police band to a nice jazz station. Dunby stood at the foot of the stairs, raising himself above the crowd, if only slightly.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Officers and loved ones!" He started, trying to be heard over the rest of the crowd. "Hey! LISTEN UP!"

The partygoers quieted. "Now, I want to thank you all for your service and dedication over the last year." Dunby continued. "We've had some tough cases, including but not limited to the Fury Case, the Pappalardo raids, and the Blue Elb-"

"We promised never to speak of that again!" Someone in the crowd shouted. There was much laughter.

"Erm, right." Dunby said, clearing his throat. "Regardless, It's been a wild year. I want to thank you all; LEGO City would not be the safe city it is without our dedicated officers keeping the peace." There was a smattering of applause and cheers. "Now, while I would like to thank all of you personally, I think we can all agree there is one officer who has gone above and beyond the call of duty."

"Literally!" Another person called out.

"So I'd like to Thank Chase McCain for his tireless undercover work and many, many arrests."

"…Um… Where is Chase?"

* * *

"Chase, where are we going?" Natalia asked. They had left the party and were climbing the stairs outside the police station.

"Up." Chase said. "You can get the best view of the LEGO City skyline from up here."

It didn't take them long to reach the helipad, the tallest point on the Precinct. Natalia gasped. LEGO City's skyline was lit up in a myriad of colors, sparkling across the waters of the bay. They could even see the New Year's ball sparkling at the top of the spire in Festival Plaza.

"It's beautiful." Natalia said. "You were right; this is an amazing view."

"Oh, I dunno." Chase said, leaning over and putting an arm around her. "I think I've found a better one."

Natalia blushed. "Chase, you flirt."

Chase grinned. "Never hurts to try."

They looked at the skyline again. Natalia checked her watch. "Almost time." She said. "Got any resolutions for this new year?"

"Nope." Chase said. "I've already got everything I could ever want."

And he leaned over and kissed her. When the fireworks for the new year went off, he didn't notice; He was already seeing fireworks of his own.


	7. Let's Get Physical(s)

Files from the Lego City PD

Case File # 229: Let's Get Physical(s)

Date: April 15th

Time: 9:15 A.M.

Location: Lego City Precinct, Cherry Tree Hills

It was any other day in Lego City. The sun, which ever shone gloriously in the sky, sent is golden rays upon the pristine streets and parks. One such ray wound its way through the air and down upon a blue and white building surrounded by cherry trees. It shone through a freshly-washed window and across a row of neat, orderly desks before landing upon a dread notice that had been posted on the bulletin board the day before:

ANNOUNCING

 **PHYSICALS**

All Police staff are required to submit for their yearly physical. Staff with last names A-M are called Monday the 25th at 9:30 A.M., Staff with the last names N-Z are called Tuesday the 26th at 9.30 A.M. Please wear your exercise uniform. Please report to Butch Patterson with any questions.

This notice, of course, was the cause of the orderly desks and freshly-washed windows. When physical time came around, the yearly audits were soon to follow. Most staff preferred to get a head-start on cleaning up the paperwork when the notice for physicals went up. And while the desks were orderly, they were also vacant. This was because everyone was down in the "dungeon"-the basement of the Police Precinct-preparing for the physicals.

Some needed it more than most.

"Almost there, chief! Two more!" Frank said in a vain attempt to encourage Chief Dunby through another set of repetitions. Dunby strained against the weights as he pushed the bar up and away from his chest in a feeble attempt at a bench press. He pushed, heaved as the bar fell, then pushed a final time to place the bar back on its holdings. However, he heaved a bit too hard, pushing the bar over the top of the rack and onto Frank's Foot.

"YOW!" Frank yelped, hopping up and down while holding a very sore toe.

"I can't do this." Dunby panted, lying prone on the bench.

"Aw, C'mon chief." Chase said, working his way through his own set of repetitions, although he was pushing significantly more weight. "You were only benching ten pounds!"

"It's too much." Dunby moaned.

Chase opened his mouth to suggest something, but thought better of it. Dunby's problem didn't stem from lack of exercise; When the majority of Police calls involved a pursuit of some sort, few officers had the time or energy to pack on pounds. No, Dunby's problem was an abundance of those sweet, delicious treats that almost every cop craved; Doughnuts. And there was no way Dunby was going to give those up.

"Grow some backbone, boss." Officer Jenkins said from the punching bag nearby. Unlike Chase, Jenkins was not afraid to speak her mind. "Even better, why don't you lay off a box of doughnuts every now and then? You'll feel amazing in no time!"

Dunby's face turned pale. "Give up…Doughnuts?" He asked weakly.

"You have to admit it, Chief, 15 doughnuts a day isn't exactly healthy." Chase said delicately, putting his bar back up on the rack.

"Yeah, at least until physicals are over." Jenkins continued, punching the bag in front of her ferociously. "Turn the doughnuts down to, say, five a day? That's fair, isn't it Chase?"

"…Five…Doughnuts…a day?"

"Just to start. You'll be ready for physicals in…"

There was a loud THUNK as Jenkins' suggestion finally reached Dunby's brain. He slipped from the bench and landed on the floor in a dead faint.

Chase and Jenkins stopped what they were doing and stood over Dunby.

"Well, that didn't work." Jenkins noted as Frank continued hopping on one foot in the background, oblivious to the Chief's plight.

"We're going to have to find some other means of motivating him…"

The sun was shining bright the next morning on Lego City University. The prestigious college had a rather impressive sports program and even more impressive facilities to go with it. The track, in particular, was in constant use by track team members, students, and citizens alike. Today it was in use by the Police department for calisthenics and, to the detriment of some particular members, running.

"Alright folks, step it up! Three more laps!" Butch Patterson yelled into a megaphone as roughly a fourth of Lego City's Finest ran around in exhausted circles. While none of the officers were fat by any means, many hadn't been out from behind their desks in quite a while.

"How…Much…Further?" Officer Park panted as she ran around the track. Officer Spencer was doing his best to keep pace with her, but her slowing gait made it difficult. Behind them, Ted Baxter was also having trouble.

"Pick up the pace, Baxter!" Jenkins yelled from the sidelines. She and Chase had already completed their laps. She took a drink of water and watched the exhausted troop run around the field. "Think they have a chance?"

"Of course." Chase said, squinting in the sunlight. "They just need to shake the rust off, that's all."

"Even Chief?" Jenkins said, looking at the rear of the pack.

Their solution for getting Dunby to participate was simple, ingenious, and kind of mean. Frank was keeping a steady pace around the track, being one of the slimmer cops. Strapped to his back was a fishing pole with a doughnut on the hook. Chief Dunby ran behind him trying to catch the doughnut. Frank, so far, was staying just far enough ahead of him to keep the doughnut just out of his reach.

"Slow down, Frank!" The Chief panted through heaving breaths of air.

"Yes sir!" Frank said, pulling back a bit.

"OFFICER HONEY!" Patterson shouted through the megaphone. "PICK UP THE PACE!"

Although Frank respected the chief, he was also terrified of the Force's recruit instructor. "YES SIR!" He shouted, lengthening his stride just as Dunby reached for the doughnut. The sugary treat whipped out of his hands just before they closed around it. Dunby gave a small whimper and continued to follow Frank around the track Desperately.

"Well, it seems to be working so far." Chase said as they watched the theatrics.

"Let's hope it keeps up…"

The next week was filled with exercises, activities, and training courses designed to work every part of the body an officer could think of (and some that even stumped Chase's EMT girlfriend, Natalia) Any time an officer wasn't on duty or sleeping they were hiking, running, lifting weights or hiding from Officer Butch. (Which rarely worked.) While some officers took it in stride, others were having a hard time keeping up with the load. Some even had to go to the hospital for pulled muscles or twisted ankles. Through it all, Chase, Jenkins and Frank worked to keep Dunby going so that their fearless leader wouldn't fear walking into the examination room.

Friday rolled around and pretty much everyone in the precinct was limping or nursing sore muscles. Even Bea, who was spared on the account of not actually being a police officer, was looking ragged.

"This is getting ridiculous." Jenkins growled from her desk. "I never thought I'd pop my shoulder like that." She muttered as Ted tossed her an ice pack from the fridge stashed under his desk.

"Butch Is getting a bit overzealous with his workout regime." Chase conceded.

"A bit?" Frank asked, lying on the floor behind his own desk. "I had to climb Lighthouse peak three times. THREE! And that's without hauling Chief up the fourth time."

"I hope he doesn't make us work out over the weekend." Park whispered, head on her desk. "I'm going to need the overtime just to get my filing system fixed."

"I heard Pat had a crook get away from him earlier this afternoon." Ted said after a long drink of coffee.

"What, How?"

"His leg cramped because of all the running Butch's had him do. He's not a spring chicken like the rest of us." Park pointed out.

"Dunby's going to need to put him in his place soon." Spencer said lowly from the floor next to Parker.

"How? He's run as ragged as the rest of us, if not more because we've been pushing him so hard." Chase pointed out from his chair.

"Well, something's going to have to give, or we're all going into physicals with broken limbs."

"I hope that thing that gives isn't us." Frank moaned.

A loud whistle pierced the air as Butch waded into the room. Everyone in the area groaned and covered their ears at the piercing blast.

"Alright ladies, on your feet!" Butch yelled. "We're going to stretch those limbs of yours today with some nice rowing. OUT TO THE BOAT DOCK!"

It took fifteen minutes to assemble everyone, only because the majority of the group was wincing and nursing sore muscles as they made their way to the dock behind the station. Two long canoes were next to the dock, each with seats for eight people.

"EVERYONE INTO THE BOATS!" Butch shouted as Chase pulled life jackets from the storage closet. "Let's move it!"

"Chase!" Frank whispered as officers began to shuffle into the boats. "We don't have the doughnut for Chief!"

"have Ellie Grab a box while we're out." Chase whispered back. "He'll just have to wait until we get back."

"I hope he lasts that long." Frank whispered as he sent his crush a frantic text.

"MCAIN! HONEY! IN THE BOAT!"

 _*Sigh*_ "Yes, Sir…"

The rowing expedition itself was uneventful, if you count Butch shouting at you for two hours boring. (Which, to most of the crew, it was.)

"Does his voice ever get hoarse?" Park whispered as they lapped Liberty Island for the third time.

"I'm not sure the guy even sleeps." Ted whispered back. In front of them, Dunby was having a hard time keeping his focus.

"Doughnuts…" His moaned to himself as he pushed the oars forward.

"Just hang on, Chief, we'll be done soon and there will be a whole box for you…" Frank whispered.

"LESS TALKING MORE ROWING!"

Two hours later, the two canoes pulled slowly back into the dock. There was a gentle bump as the bow hit the cement wall, then a sigh as the exhausted rowers collapsed.

"ALRIGHT! Take five minutes then we'll have a nice run around Crescent park!" Butch yelled, hopping out of the boat. Ellie was waiting on the dock with a box of doughnuts, fresh from Wheatley's Bakery.

"Hey Chief, Here's a treat for you!" Frank said, summoning up the energy to pull a doughnut out of the box.

It was then that one of life's curious little mishaps…happened. Lego City had always had a bit of a shark problem; they ate anyone who swam too far out (and end up with a stomachache afterwards) but mostly they stayed out in the deep water. But somehow one had swam too close to shore and was feeling a little peckish. It smelled the freshly-made treat in Frank's hand and leapt out of the water, nearly taking Frank with it as it dove back into the water with the doughnut.

The entire crew, who had by this point climbed out of the boats, looked into the water in shock, then at Dunby, who was turning a rather dangerous shade of red. Then he suddenly yelled and dove into the water, shedding his life jacket. Bubbles formed, then disappeared off the surface of the water. There was silence.

Then there was a loud SPLASH as something large, dark and heavy flew out of the water. Everyone screamed (including Jenkins, who later on wouldn't admit it) and dove for shelter at the edge of the port. The shark flew through the air and landed on Butch, pinning him to the pier.

"THAT'LL SHOW HIM!" Dunby yelled, pulling himself out of the water. He stalked over to the shark, forced its mouth open, and rooted around until he found what he was looking for. "NO ONE Messes with my doughnuts!" He proclaimed as he reclaimed his treat. Then he looked down at Butch. "AND YOU! The endless workouts stop NOW. I Don't care HOW important physical day is, but I need these man and women for the other 364! I won't have you abusing them for your little day of pride." He said, grabbing the shark by one hand and tossing it back into the sea. It didn't even look back as it bee lined for open water. "YOU GOT THAT, OFFICER?"

"Yes Sir… Butch said weakly."

"Good." Dunby said, taking a big bite of doughnut. "Now You Lot! Back to work! I don't want to see a single piece of paper on anyone's desk by the end of the day!"

"YES SIR!" The crew said with conviction and, more importantly, relief. The order meant that they could sit at their desks all day and rest. Dunby happily took the box of doughnuts from Ellie and led the procession back into the police station. Only Chase was left behind, slightly flabbergasted at what had just transpired.

"What… just happened?" He asked Jenkins as they began to walk back up to the station.

"What, you didn't think he became Police Chief by winning a doughnut-eating contest, did you?"

Two weeks later, the station was breathing easy again. Everyone had passed their physicals with flying colors (Sore muscles from Butch's extreme workouts notwithstanding) and the paperwork was running smoothly again. Pat had even caught the crook he'd lost when the miscreant tried to rob an ice cream stand.

"Think everything's back to normal now?" Park asked as she neatly filed a report in her new filing cabinet.

Chase looked across the lobby as the doors opened and Frank walked in with a stack of doughnut boxes towering over his head. "Important supplies for Chief, Frank?" He called.

"Yep! Second load for the office is out in the truck!" Frank called back as he tried to navigate the stairs.

"I'd say they're back to normal." Chase said with a smile as he turned back to his desk, watching the sun make its trek across the cloudless sky.

* * *

 _And there you have it folks! Now, I know Dunby in the game doesn't really show what you saw here at the end, but I figure the guy has his strong points. We just don't see them in game. He's a good leader and a great cop. Thankfully fanfiction allows me to play with character types a bit. :)_


	8. The Dog Days of Summer

What's this? A new LCPD Chapter!

 _Inconceivable_!

Yes, LCPD has returned. I never intended to leave it, but IRL got in the way. I won't be updating as much as I will Depths of the Yiga, but our favorite officers are far from being left in the dust.

* * *

 **Case file #881: The Dog Days of Summer**

Date: August 28th

Time: 8:37 A.M.

Location: Cherry Tree Hills

Normally, undercover specialist Chase McCain wasn't fazed by Frank's shenanigans. The young officer had a rather predictable tendency to break whatever piece of technology on hand. Whenever he wasn't near a computer or high-tech police vehicle, Frank Honey would still manage to get into trouble. And it was usually up to Chase to get him out of it.

This was a new one on him though. The curly-haired dog that peeked out from under Frank's desk at the precinct looked at him with soft brown eyes that no dog should have the right to have. Frank himself was digging in a desk drawer for a treat for the little mutt. While Frank was no stranger to animals, he normally didn't bring them to work with him.

"Frank, what is this?" He asked, gesturing to the puppy under his desk.

"Oh!" Frank said, turning excitedly in his chair to face Chase. "This is our new police dog, Sgt. Shedder!"

"…Sgt. Shedder?" Chase repeated, slightly confused and bewildered.

"Well, the office voted for Sgt. Shredder, but the engraver left the first 'r' off the dog tag." Frank said. Sure enough, when Chase looked at the tag, the name 'Sgt. Shedder' barely fit on the little shield-shaped piece of metal. It also had the precinct's address and the pooch's official police designation number.

"And why do we have a dog?" Chase asked.

"If you'd read the morning report every once in a while Chase, you'd know." Chief Dunby said, coming up unexpectedly behind Chase. "Sgt. Shedder is the inaugural member of the PD's new K9 Program. We're instituting them to sniff out crooks and escaped criminals."

"Really?" Chase said interested. "How many of these little guys are we going to have?"

"Well…" Frank said slowly. "Just Sgt. Shedder."

"The mayor was unwilling to approve a larger budget for the K9 program until we could prove its viability. Once Sgt. Shedder has proven his worth, we'll be able to add more dogs."

Chase nodded slowly. "So where does this little guy sleep? We're not set up for a full K9 care facility."

"Under my desk!" Frank said, rolling his chair away. Under his desk was a little bed, royal blue, and two dog bows with "Sgt. Shedder" painted on them. One was filled with standard-issue dog kibble, the other with water that was dangerously close to spilling out next to Frank's Computer.

Chase sighed. "Alright. Anyone want to answer the question I'm afraid to answer? Who's in charge of training him?" But he already knew. There was only one person that had the time to commit to this project.

"Officer Honey is in charge of training our new recruit and preparing him for duty." Chief Dunby replied. "And I expect results this time, IS THAT CLEAR?"

"Yes Chief!" Frank said, jumping to his feet and disrupting the water dish, which naturally spilled all over the computer tower. Thankfully said computer was nothing more than a shell-The department had long since learned that technology and Frank did not get along. But what Frank didn't know couldn't hurt him any more than what he DID know. "Come on, Sgt. Shedder! It's time to start your official training!" He said, grabbing the leash that was dangling precariously off his desk. He barely had time to clip the lead to the collar when both officer and dog had vanished out the door.

"Do you really think this is going to work, Chief?" Chase asked.

"I hope so. We need some fresh Ideas in the PD, and this might just be it."

"Sure, chief. Just one question."

"Yeah?"

"Of all the dogs available, why did we pick a Cocker Spaniel?"

Crescent park was one of the greenest spaces in the city outside of Bluebell National Park. Trees stretched toward the sky and covered immaculately-manicured grass, providing gentle shade for picnic-goers. A small bike path wound its way over the pond and past a small coffee shop, and a playground for children. It as a pleasant place.

This was where Frank and Sgt. Shedder had ended up after leaving the precinct. Sgt. Had been so eager to get outside that he'd started running as soon as Frank had put the leash on and hadn't stopped until they reached the park on the far side of the city. Frank, still with a tight grip on the leash, leaned forward to catch his breath while Sgt. Looked on Inquisitively.

"A-all right Sergeant. Today we start your official K9 Training." Frank panted, standing straight. Sgt. Shedder at up and barked excitedly. "Now, to be a fully-fledged member of the Lego City Police Department, there are important things that you need to know. For instance!" Frank continued, pointing a finger in the air self-importantly. "Never, EVER take the doughnuts off Chief Dunby's Desk. Those are his doughnuts only. Secondly, always remember to-Hey!"

Sgt. Shedder had already lost focus, wandering away from Honey to go sniff in a flower bush. Honey scrambled to catch him as the dog flounced from bush to bush, following a variety of interesting scents. "Come back! We need to finish your police training!" Honey cried, taking a diving leap for the leash. Being the clumsiest officer in the LCPD that he is, he missed.

Honey pushed himself off the ground, coughing grass out of his mouth as Sgt. Shedder sat next to a bushed and barked at him, waving his tail eagerly. He groaned. He didn't think dog training was going to be this hard; he was usually good with animals.

"Excuse me, young man?" A watery old voice asked. Honey looked up to see a little old lady with glasses that magnified her eyes larger than Ellie's microscope could with his fingers. "Are you a police officer?"

"Of course!" Frank said, jumping to his feet and brushing the grass off. He snapped off a salute. "Frank Honey of the Lego City Police Department."

"Oh, that's just wonderful." The lady said with a smile. "I was wondering if you could help me. I left my knitting bag sitting on a bench as I was watching the birds, the Yellow-specked warblers are in mating season and they have such lovely song, when this lovely little kitten wandered up to me and just demanded to be petted… Anyway, I had turned to pick up my knitting and my entire bag was gone! Oh, I don't know what to do. I was knitting a lovely scarf for my wonderful daughter, Oh I think you would like her, she's got the sweetest little dimples when she smiles…Where was I?"

"Your knitting bag, ma'am." Frank said, having trouble following the conversation himself. "Which bench were you sitting on?"

"That one over there." She said, pointing slowly to a bench underneath a tree. "There's a Yellow-specked warbler nest in the tree, and I was watching the birds flit about and court. Oh, love is such a wonderful thing."

"Don't worry Ma'am, we'll find your knitting bag in no time." Frank said. He reached over and grabbed Sgt. Shedder's leash when the pooch was distracted by a movement in the bush. "Come on, Sgt. Shedder!" He said cheerfully, gently tugging the spaniel away. Sgt. Shedder whined a bit, but then followed Frank to the bench. "Can you smell anything boy?" He asked.

Frank, being Frank, had forgotten that a scent sample of whatever the dog is trying to search for is usually essential to tracking. But this didn't deter Sgt. Shedder, who was eager to prove himself. He sniffed around the bench eagerly, up and down and on the seat. Then he barked, nose to the ground as he dragged Frank away from the bench. Around the park they went, through bushes and around trees until Sgt. Shedder stopped directly below a large oak and barked, looking up.

Frank peered up into the tree. All that he could see was a nest, with two little birds covered in yellow flecks. "Sgt. Shedder, you were supposed to be sniffing for the bag, not the Yellow-Specked Warblers!" He sighed. "Come on, let's go back to the bench and try again."

But Sgt. Shedder was not deterred. He sat, unmoving, at the bottom of the tree. Then he began to growl as an orange tabby appeared amongst the branches, its eyes narrowed on the warblers.

"We're chasing Cats now?" Frank asked, exasperated. "Chasing cats is not a part of your official Police Duties- "

Sgt. Shedder began to bark. The cat looked down, startled, then darted away down the far side of the trunk and through a bush. Sgt. Shedder took off in hot pursuit. Frank's mind registered, in the fraction of a second between Sgt. Shedder running and his own feet leaving the ground, that his was about to be very painful. Then, he was gone, a silhouette left behind for the barest of seconds behind him before dissipating in the wind.

Sgt. Shedder was relentless in his pursuit of the feline. He dragged Frank from one end of the park to the other, through the pond and under a large and occupied table at the café, through bushes and pleasure gardens and across a very complicated obstacle course set up by the Lego City University for its football team's summer practice. Frank was able to pull a training tire off his head just in time to see a large maintenance shed looming in front of him. "Oh no."

Sgt. Shedder dove headfirst through the doors of the shed just as Chase pulled up in a cruiser to check on their progress. He and Dunby climbed out of the car as sounds of barks, squeals of pain, a fierce hiss and, inexplicably, the sound of a chicken emerged from the shed, amongst various other sounds of pain. The pair of senior officers looked at each other and shrugged. They couldn't get into too much trouble in the shed, could they?

They walked around to the entrance of the shed, struck speechless by the carnage within. There was an orange cat in a pet carrier, quivering in fear. Frank and three unidentified crooks (who would later turn out to be Black-Eyed Pete, Moss-tooth joe and Slicky Jims, and the third only after he slipped away from the prison truck during load-up.) Were on the floor, firmly entangled in Sgt. Shedder's leash. Purses and bags of all sizes were thrown about the room. And in the center of it all sat Sgt. Shedder, wagging his tail happily and smiling proudly.

"Well, I'll be." Dunby said. "Perhaps that little mutt is good for something after all."

"Oh! Hi Chief!" Frank said from the floor, freeing one arm to wave. "Look what we found! These crooks have been stealing purses from little old ladies all over the park. I think they're using that cat to distract them." He said, pointing to the cat cowering in the carrier. "But we were able to sniff them out! Isn't that right, Sgt.?"

Sgt. Shedder barked, as if in agreement. "Good boy." Frank said. The three crooks groaned.

"All right, let's get this mess taken care off. McCain, call for a transport truck to take these clowns back to the precinct. Frank, get yourself out of that mess and start taking these bags back to the old ladies. I'm sure they'll love you for it." He said, rolling his eyes and walking away.

"Oh! Officer, you found my knitting bag!" The little lady appeared from nowhere, picking her bag gently off the ground. "I can't thank you enough. My little girl's going to be so happy when she sees this. Oh, Officer Dunby! How nice to see you again!" She said, turning around and spotting the chief. "What perfect timing. Could you give this to my daughter, Chief Gleason?" She asked, pulling a ridiculously long purple scarf out of her bag.

"Mrs. Gleason, your daughter is the mayor now." Chief Dunby said, exasperated. From his tone of voice, it was not the first time he had had this conversation with the Mayor's mother.

"Oh, don't be silly, My daughter? She's not cut out for politics." She said, dropping the scarf into Chief Dunby's arms. "I can't thank you all enough. Do have a wonderful day!" She called, and she vanished just as quickly as she had appeared.

"So that's Mayor Gleason's mother." Chase said, watching the little old lady toddle away with her knitting. "She's a… charming old lady."

"That's one way to put it." Dunby replied, his mood swung fully back to its standard sour setting. "HONEY! Hurry up with returning these bags. McCain, get these clowns back to the station. I'm going to take this to the Mayor before this gets around HQ." He said, stalking back to the car with the purple scarf.

"Come on, Frank, we've still got work to do." Chase said, pulling Frank out of the tangle of crooks. Before any of them could run he had slapped handcuffs on all of them. "You and Sgt. Shedder start taking these bags back."

"How are we going to do that? There's… Tens of them!" Frank replied, his mental arithmetic failing him.

"Well, Sgt. Shedder was able to find the shed, wasn't he? Surely, he'll be able to find the owners with no trouble. And if anyone's left the park we'll just take these back to the precinct and try to contact them from there."

"Yes Sir!" Frank said, jumping to his feet. He picked up the leash and attached it back to Sgt. Shedder. "Come on, Sgt. Shedder. Let's find these owners!"

Chase shook his head as he watched the duo run off with a large pile of bags to return. _Frank may not be the most skilled officer in the force._ He thought. _But he's still got his own little place… albeit one covered in dog hair._


End file.
